Fortune's Winds
by RhapsodyInProgress
Summary: The Titanic was different things to different people; to Kate she was the dream of a new life, to Jim she was only the means to an end. One thing was certain either way - Titanic was the ship that was going to change their lives...Now complete.
1. There She Is

**A/N** - This is a longer note than I generally like to write, but I feel the need to explain some stuff in order to pre-empt some inevitable questions. Skip if you want.

First and foremost I have to stress one thing, even though I'm sure it will lead to some pre-judging: this story is based on _Titanic: the Musical_ (yes, it exists) not the movie. I know I just lost, like, all my potential readers with that one statement, but I do wish you'd hear me out. If you don't know the musical, or just hate musicals in general, that should **not** hamper your enjoyment (hypothetical enjoyment, of course) of this fic. No one here will be bursting into song at any time, I promise. I simply need to clarify that you won't be running into Jack, Rose or anyone else from James Cameron's film in this fic. I've put this in the movie section because I hope that many fans of the movie are like me and enjoy the film for the historical content as well as or more than the Jack/Rose business and therefore would still like to read a story that doesn't have anything to do with those characters. I choose to write based on the musical only because I feel that the film did a more than adequate job wrapping up everyone's stories and thus I have no real pressing need to expand on what the movie already told us. On the other hand, I was immediatly captured by the characters that populate the stage show and the potential for stories therein.

Neatly segueing into point two: the characters. Kate McGowan, Kate Murphy, Kate Mullins and Jim Farrell were all real people who really did sail on the _Titanic_. However, for reasons best known to the writers of the musical, they have been highly fictionalised in that context. I have always assumed that this was a symbolic choice – picking real names to attribute to characters that were really more intended to symbolise the entirety of their class. Thus, I choose to think of these characters as fictional people who happen to share the same names as actual historical figures. If you stick around to the end of the story, I'll give some background on the real people for the curious.

This story takes place during the time frame of the musical and thus there will be scenes from the musical in the fic, just without the singing (obviously). Unlike Jack & Rose of movie fame, Kate et al are not in every scene of the musical. You in fact miss about three days of the voyage from the POV of 3rd class. This story is my attempt at filling in the blanks. I'll stress again that it won't matter at all if you've not seen the musical, it just bears mentioning that there will be lines from the script in here.

I will take a moment here to say that I love this musical to pieces. I'm a scary musical theatre nerd who has seen and/or is familiar with a frankly alarming number of musicals which I mention only to give a frame of reference when I say that _Titanic_ sits consistently in my top five. Lots of people would disagree with me, but I'll defend the show until I drop dead from lack of oxygen.

Lastly, I am a _Titanic_ geek. I have always been fascinated and haunted by the story of the ship and her passengers and crew. I sincerely hope that I do them justice in this fic.

**Disclaimer:** Peter Stone and Maury Yeston wrote the musical and James Cameron wrote the film, but they can't lay claim to the _Titanic_ any more than I can. She belongs to history and memory.

* * *

_Sail on, sail on, Godspeed Titanic_

_Cross the open sea._

_Pray you journey sound, 'til your port be found_

_Fortune's winds, sing Godspeed to thee._

The early April sunshine spread cheerfully across the docks at Queenstown, Ireland illuminating the people swarming the area like moths drawn to the light. Bright sparks of morning sunlight glistened on the water, tracing a path out to the great ship sitting a mile off shore, setting her gleaming new decks shining, her pristine white paint blinding. Or at least, this was how Katherine McGowan – Kate to most of the world – imagined that it would look being that she could not actually see the damn ship just then.

Kate had been warned that all passengers travelling third class had to pass a mandatory health exam before boarding any White Star liner. She had hoped that perhaps this wasn't true and that she might be permitted to board unmolested. These hopes had been immediately dashed by a pair stuffy-looking uniformed men who ushered her brusquely towards the exam stations without so much as a 'good morning Miss' and directed her into one of several lines of people waiting to be examined.

The examinations were taking place in a low-slung building whose actual purpose Kate could only guess at. Because of this, she had gotten no more than a glimpse of the great _Titanic_ before being shuffled inside. That was just typical, Kate thought, shooting an irritated look at the ceiling; she got a ticket on the grandest ship in the world and she couldn't even get a proper look at the bloody thing.

To keep occupied and to stave off the nerves, excitement and slight anxiety that were making her insides flutter, Kate surveyed her fellow passengers. They were mostly Irish, like her, and so somewhat less exciting than the mix would have been at Southhampton, but Kate could still find ways to amuse herself. She wondered, for example, whether the couple to her immediate left were newlyweds, or brother and sister and if they were aware that they had dressed almost identically. She wondered if the young girl in front of her was glowering so fiercely because of being forced to wait in this line, or because her mother wouldn't stop berating her for not wearing gloves and if that little boy in the peaked cap clinging to his father's hand realised that he was leaving his home forever.

Kate adjusted her grip on her single suitcase and shuffled along. The mother and daughter had reached the inspection station, making Kate next in line - thank the Lord for small favours. Kate was travelling alone, having said goodbye to her family the day before. She was trying not to dwell on the fact that she would likely never see any of them again – they had barely been able to scrounge enough money to pay Kate's fare let alone the whole brood, and besides, her brothers had no particular ambition to ever leave Ireland. But this was too important a day to allow homesickness to creep in and put a damper on it so Kate flatly refused to contemplate how alone she was. Even so, Kate had to admit that she would not have objected to having someone to talk to, some other young woman her own age perhaps.

The elder half of the mother/daughter pair ahead of Kate had evidently been found fit to board; she now stood a few feet from the inspection station clutching the papers that declared her to have passed the health exam and waiting for her daughter to be waved through as well. Kate bobbed impatiently on the balls of her feet. Across the way, the waiting mother did the same.

In the queue to Kate's right, someone made a low sound of annoyance. Kate glanced in the direction of the noise and found the culprit to be a good-looking young man maybe four or five years Kate's senior. He had a beat up canvas bag hanging from one hand and he swung this against his leg in an agitated fashion, all the while glowering at the slow-moving line. Kate felt her mouth twist into a little smirk. A surreptitious glance at the surrounding area revealed no obvious spouse or familial relations of any kind which led Kate to draw the somewhat hopeful conclusion that he too was without a travelling companion.

The man caught Kate staring and raised one eyebrow. Kate raised one of her own in return. The man blinked, caught off guard by her boldness, then chuckled, a bemused half-smile creeping across his face, "The way they're takin' their time, ye'd think they wanted us te miss the bloody ship all together." He said, explaining his earlier noise of discontent.

"Ah no, they'd not do that," Kate replied with a wry grin, "Else they'd be havin' te return our fare an' that'd never do."

"Fair point," The man conceded, "Though I still think they're tryin' te make a sport of watchin' the poor Irish run fer the tender ships."

Kate laughed out loud at the mental image of a hundred some odd men, women and children doing a mad dash for the gangway, "Oh lord, don't say that too loud or next thing ye know they'll be bettin' on us like horses." The man started to respond but was, at that moment ushered forward into his exam station, "Hmm, yours is faster than mine." Kate commented, nodding her head in the direction of her own future examiner. He was still busy checking over the teenage girl.

The man flashed Kate a quick grin but was too distracted by the doctor now bustling about in front of him to further the conversation. Kate rocked back on her heels and smiled to herself. Yes, she was hoping to find some nice, single girls her age to befriend, but if she happened to also befriend a nice, single man Kate certainly wasn't going to complain. Of course…she passed a self-conscious hand over the front of her coat, smoothing the material across her stomach. After a second she shook her head as though clearing a fog and forced herself to drop her arm back to her side. Kate had promised herself not to brood, not today.

She was pulled from her musings by the doctor, who had finally finished torturing the poor teenager and was now beckoning Kate forward. The man – Kate wasn't even sure if he _was_ a doctor at that – was young, not much older than Kate herself. He had a look about him that suggested a desire to do his job well conflicting with an absolute longing to be anywhere but where he was. Kate knew the feeling.

"Name please?" The young man said pen poised above his clipboard.

Kate put her suitcase down, but kept a tight hold on her boarding papers, "Katherine McGowan," She peered at the man's notes, "Katherine with a 'K' mind."

The doctor rolled his eyes and corrected the error, "I need to see your papers." He intoned, "And if you would please remove your hat and coat?"

Obediently, Kate handed over her papers but she was more reluctant about the coat and hat. Both were relatively new, in good shape and, put together, had cost more than the entire contents of Kate's suitcase. She draped the coat carefully over said suitcase, taking care not to drag it along the dirty ground. The hat, Kate kept clasped in both hands.

Enough people had passed through the exam station ahead of Kate that she knew that the first part of the check up was scan for lice and other such nasty infestations. Kate, who had never had so much as a nit all her life, couldn't help but feel slightly humiliated by the whole process. She knew that it was necessary and that there was plenty of her caste that wouldn't have been so lucky to avoid such problems as lice or fleas, but there was nothing like a public inspection to remind a person just how low on the social ladder they fell. It made her feel like cattle.

"All right Miss," Kate's young doctor was saying, "If you could just stand still."

Ignoring her stinging pride, Kate refrained from moving so that the man could check her hair and scalp. She couldn't say she envied him that task; her curls were a good bit thicker than she figured any human hair needed to be. While the examiner attempted to wade through her abundant mop of hair, Kate took a moment to peek at the station next to her.

The doctor overseeing the exam of Kate's handsome new acquaintance was a significantly older than the man currently poking about Kate's own head. He had finished the lice-check, which had apparently come up negative as the young Irishman had already pulled back on his peaked cap and was now having his eyes and throat checked for any sign of infection. While the doctor jotted down his notes, the young man caught Kate's gaze for a second time. Kate made a face and rolled her eyes sympathetically. He shrugged and gave her a look of amused resignation, then brought his focus back to the doctor who had just launched into a series of health related questions.

Kate's young doctor, for his part, finally seemed to finish checking Kate's head, which was a relief if only because she'd been growing concerned that he'd actually lost his comb somewhere in the jungle of her curls. Instead of commencing with the throat and eye exam, however, the doctor lifted the mass of ruddy coils from the back of Kate's neck to examine the fine hairs there. Startled by the familiarity of this gesture, Kate yelped and spun around, dealing her hapless examiner a sharp cuff across the top of his head.

"Oi! Watch where yer pokin' there boy-o!" Kate said indignantly, giving him another smack with her hat for good measure, "We hardly know each other after all."

The young doctor's face went brilliantly pink, "Miss, I assure you that it's just procedure…" he stammered.

"Is there a problem Crowly?" That was the older examiner from next door. Both he and his handsome charge had turned to stare at Kate, bemusement splashed across their faces.

Kate arched one eyebrow and answered in the man's place, "No sir, except I usually need a fella te at least buy me a drink 'fore he goes pawin' round the back o' me neck, yeah?"

"I-I wasn't _pawing_." The younger doctor – Crowly apparently – insisted, his face darkening to a very pronounced shade of purplish red. This drew a barely concealed snort of laughter from the Irishman. Kate flashed him a quick sideways grin and he touched the peak of his cap in acknowledgment.

The older doctor rolled his eyes, "Get on with it then," He sighed. Kate was sure that she saw his mouth twitch in amusement before he turned away again.

"Right. Right." Crowly, still clearly flustered, said, "You can put your coat and hat back on…er…Miss."

"Thank ye." Kate said, immediately retrieving her coat and giving it a careful dusting off before slipping it back on. Doing up her buttons, Kate gave Crowly – who was staring at his clipboard as though he'd forgotten why he was there – a curious look, "I think yer s'posed te be checking my eyes now."

The young man jumped and turned pink again. Kate decided that he had clearly never had a girl in his life. Poor lad. "I… yes, quite right."

Kate submitted to the eye and throat exam without causing any more of a fuss. Crowly seemed determined to get rid of her as soon as humanly possible now and Kate wasn't about to impede his newfound haste. At the adjacent station, the young man had finished getting looked over and was now being handed his papers. Kate – who currently had Crowly peering down her throat – watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was not only handsome, but seemed to have a sense of humour as well and Kate had been half-hoping that their exams would finish at the same time so that she might talk to him properly.

Though this was apparently not to be, Kate was positive that she saw him glance her way and hesitate before starting out of the building towards the docks. Kate made up her mind then and there that she was going to get to know that particular fellow. If nothing else she figured that he might be able to fill the void left by her brothers.

"Miss?" That was Crowly again. He had finished checking her over and had his clipboard back in hand, pen at the ready, "I need to ask you a few questions."

Kate nodded, "All right, ask away." She chirped feeling quite merry now that the end of the exam was in sight.

Crowly eyed her warily as though expecting her to assault him again then said, "Have you experienced any ill health in the past twelve months?"

It was such an absurd question that Kate almost laughed. Who _hadn't_ experienced ill health in a whole year? "Er… what kind of ill health would ye be referrin' to?"

"Any sort of severe sickness, especially chronic illnesses that might be contagious." Crowly replied, still giving her a distrustful look.

Kate tilted her head to one side and would have looked genuinely perplexed if she'd just been able to keep her mouth from twitching, "Does anyone ever actually say 'yes' te that question?"

"I'm going to take that as a 'no' then." Crowly intoned drily.

"Right ye are." Kate said, pulling the pins from her hat so that she could secure it to her head again.

Crowly gave an irritated sigh, "Look Miss, if you'll just tell me – honestly," He shot her a pointed look, "If there is any medical problem we should know about, then I'll let you run along."

Kate bobbed her head and said around a mouthful of hat pins "Medical things? Like… breathin' problems?" Crowly nodded, "Or… rashes? Bleedin' sores? Boils? Fits?" Each time Crowly nodded, looking as though he'd like to bash her over the head with his clipboard, "What about pregnancy?"

"Pregnancy is not a contagious disease!" Crowly snapped, exasperated.

"Well… some might argue that."

Crowly closed his eyes, and took a deep breath "Do any of those problems apply to you Miss?"

Kate smiled blandly and looked young Crowly square in the face; "Nope, none of 'em."

"Thank God for that." Crowly grumbled under his breath. He signed Kate's paper deeming her fit to board the _Titanic_ and handed it and the rest of her documents back to her, "Run along then."

"Yes sir," Kate grinned. She adjusted her hat, and picked up her suitcase, "Thank ye kindly." Crowly flapped a hand at her as if this might make her leave more quickly. Kate grinned again and headed out to the docks.


	2. I Must Get on That Ship

**A/N** - Well, here's chapter two, earlier than I might normally have posted it because I probably won't get a chance later this week. I haven't quite figured out what my posting schedule will be for this fic yet, but I'm hoping for a chapter a week at the least. We'll see.

Here we introduce a couple more characters and let me just say that if Peter Stone wasn't dead already I could kill him for naming all three of his main third class girls Kate. I mean really Peter, didn't you foresee the difficulties this would cause for us poor fanfic writers? Clearly not or at least one of them would be called Mary or something. For reference, lovely readers, if I don't specify which Kate I'm talking about, then it's ALWAYS Kate McGowan. If it's one of the other two I say so. Otherwise things'll just get confusing as all get out.

Lastly, many thanks to the wonderful **LazyChestnut** for being the only person to review the last chapter. I thank all you lurky mclurkers as well for showing interest in my story, but don't be afraid to drop me a line. I love hearing what people think.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer** - Still not mine.

* * *

Even though this was _Titanic_'s third port of call and even though the great ship was taking on fewer passengers here than she had at Southhampton or Cherbourg, the place was still a madhouse. Kate had never been anywhere more exciting than Dublin – here there were enough exotic sounds and smells and sights to make her head spin. She may as well have been dropped in the middle of the jungle for all she knew what she was doing. Even so, it was not in Kate's nature to dither around like an idiot, overwhelmed or otherwise. Squaring her shoulders, Kate gripped her suitcase more firmly and set off in what looked like a direction likely to get her to the waiting tender ships.

Either she had guessed right, or she was not the only passenger pretending to have some idea what she was doing, because Kate spotted the fellow she taken an interest in back at the health inspections shouldering through the crowd ahead of her. Kate picked up her pace. It was proving nearly impossible to fight the persistent push and pull of the crowds, however, and Kate quickly lost sight of the young man again. She made a face, but consoled herself with the knowledge that they'd both shortly be locked into Titanic's Steerage decks together. Plenty of time to make proper acquaintances.

At the moment, Kate was more concerned about getting out of the throng of curious onlookers. She was to be ferried to the _Titanic_ on a tender ship by the name of _Ireland_ (Kate wondered just how badly they'd taxed themselves naming that one) and she could see the proper dock up ahead. Grumbling and swearing under her breath, Kate lowered her head and pushed her way through the mass of people, finally bursting free into the more open area surrounding the gangway.

"Bleedin' Christ." Kate muttered, panting slightly. She gave herself a quick once over to make sure that she'd made it through the crowd in one piece.

She looked up into the early April sunshine, raising one hand to shield her eyes from the glare, and squinted out into the bay. When Kate finally got a proper look at the ship that was to take her to America, she gasped. "God a'mighty." Kate breathed, "Will ye look at that?"

Kate was so awestruck by the sight before her that she almost walked straight into a pair of young women, both of whom had also stopped to gawk at the ship waiting off shore. For a moment the three of them all stood rooted to the spot, gaping.

One of the other girls, a dark haired lass wearing a deep green coat and a blue knitted cap, raised one hand to her mouth, "Holy Mother of God," She said, and it was unclear if she was talking to herself or not, "Is that a ship or a mountain?"

Deciding that the comment was intended for her – she was standing closest to the girl after all – Kate grinned, "It looks long enough so a body could walk te America," When both of the other young women turned to look at her, Kate stuck out her hand, "I'm Katherine McGowan, but ev'ryone calls me Kate."

To her left, the remaining member of their impromptu trio– this one a pretty strawberry blond wearing a brightly coloured beret – gave a high-pitched squeal, "I'm Kate too!" She exclaimed, grasping Kate's hand and giving it a merry shake, "Kate Mullins."

The brunette gave a snort of disbelief and amusement, "And I'm Kate _three_." She said, shaking her head, "Kate Murphy."

Mullins, still clutching Kate's hand, gave another squeal and bounced up and down, "It must be fate then!" She pronounced, grinning so broadly she looked in danger of injuring herself.

Kate laughed and freed her hand from her new companion's grasp, "It's not fate, it's Irish." She said, "Honestly, there's prob'ly fifty more of us waitin' te board."

Murphy gave a small chuckle and nodded her agreement, but Mullins kept grinning from ear to ear, "Maybe so, but meetin' two other Kates in a matter of minutes still seems an awful lot like fate te me"

Though she was not one to believe in fate as a general rule, Kate found the blond girl's conviction charming. And it _was_ a funny coincidence that the first women she'd run into all shared her name. If there was something controlling their destinies, then it at least had a sense of humour.

"Third class passengers wishing to board _Titanic_ will please make their way to the tender ships," A disembodied voice suddenly blared over the din. All three Kates jumped and glanced around mildly bemused by the lack of obvious speaker, "Please have boarding documents at hand."

"C'mon then," Kate said, grabbing Mullins' wrist with the hand not clutching her suitcase, "Ye heard the scary voice."

The trio wove their way through the crowd hand in hand, Kate McGowan in the lead, Murphy bringing up the rear. They filed into the line of people waiting to board the _Ireland_. Kate spotted the mother and daughter she'd seen earlier, the latter of the pair still being reprimanded for not bringing her gloves. Laughing softly to herself Kate cast a sympathetic look at the back of the teenager's head. In doing so, Kate realised that there was one other familiar figure in the line ahead; just behind the beleaguered young girl stood Kate's handsome acquaintance. She grinned, pleased to discover that he was on the _Ireland_ as well, instead of the other tender ship, a slightly larger boat called the _America_.

Mullins tugged on Kate's sleeve, drawing her attention away from the man, "So, you're travellin' alone then?"

Kate flashed her new friend a mischievous smile, "Not me – I've got a fella." This statement got her a pair of surprised looks from the girls. Feigning innocence, Kate pointed towards the as-of-yet nameless Irishman, "See that good lookin' one up ahead? I'm plannin' te marry him."

Kate Mullins made a delighted little noise and clapped her hands together. Kate Murphy on the other hand shot Kate a thoroughly skeptical look and said, "Oh? When's that gonna be?"

A wicked little grin crept onto Kate's face and she shrugged, "Soon as I meet him."

Murphy shook her head in mock disapproval, laughing as she did so, while Mullins looked briefly disappointed before brightening considerably and declaring, "Well, ye should get on that."

Kate had taken an immediate liking to both women, but somehow these two reactions to her teasing cemented that initial feeling. It seemed that Kate had found the friends she'd been hoping for. Maybe it was fate after all.

The three young women had their papers looked over and were permitted to board the _Ireland_ without issue. Knowing full well that they would have to present their boarding documents all over again once the smaller boat reached the _Titanic_, Kate kept the priceless articles hugged tightly to her chest. Her entire future was tied to that slim sheaf of paper and she was not about to lose it to a careless elbow or rogue gust of wind. Until she was aboard the great ship, Kate could not consider herself well and truly free.

Dragging her new friends behind her, Kate hurried along the _Ireland_'s deck to secure a spot at the rails where a clear view of the _Titanic_ could be had. The trio gazed out at her in silence. After a moment, Kate Mullins, her expression a curious mixture of awe and fear asked, "D'ye think it's as grand a ship as they say?"

Kate turned her face into the slight breeze and nodded, "Aye, she's the grandest," And not just because all the papers and everyone who knew anything about ships and boats and all that said so. She was the grandest because she was the ship that was going to get Kate out. She was going to change Kate's life. Kate smiled, feeling hope clinging to her lips like the salt in the air, "The very grandest in the world."

A sudden blast of steam from the _Ireland_'s single funnel indicated that the little ship was getting ready to pull away from the shore. An excited buzz went up from the people gathered on the deck as they realised that this was it, they were really leaving. Kate Mullins gave a little squeak and grabbed Kate Murphy by the arm.

"Ooh, the boat's getting' ready te leave!" Mullins exclaimed. She sounded as though she was caught somewhere between feeling excited and wanting to cry. She tugged Murphy's arm, "C'mon I want te wave g'bye."

"Aye, all right, I'm comin'," Kate Murphy said. As Mullins dragged her off she turned and called back, "Ye gonna come too Kate?"

Kate McGowan shook her head, "No, thank ye. I'll stay here." Kate had no need to wave to goodbye to the Queenstown docks and a slew of people she'd never met. That wasn't her home. Her home was a tiny cottage a few miles outside Dublin that she'd already seen for the last time and already said her farewells to. Everything and everyone she loved and would miss were there, not standing on the dock.

There was a rumble of engines and the sound of churning water and suddenly they were in motion. Kate gripped her boarding papers even more tightly and told herself that the pricking behind her eyes was being caused by the wind. She kept her gaze trained on the wondrous tableau of the _Titanic_, steadily growing larger as the tender ship chugged away from the pier.

Home was gone and Kate was never going to see it again and flapping her arm at a bunch of strangers wouldn't change that fact. Everything that mattered was in front her now, embodied in a glory of steel and iron. Kate clenched her jaw and pointed her eyes forward. She did not look back.


	3. The Largest Moving Object

**A/N** - So, when I first started this story, it was written entirely from Kate's POV. It didn't take long for me to realise that something wasn't quite working. At about this same point Jim sat up and demanded to have his own say in things, so I decided to give it a go. Jim, I quickly discovered, is extremely fun to write, and has such a different voice then Kate that it's just great. I love him and I hope all you people do to.

More thanks must go out to **LC** for being an awesome reviewer. Thanks girl!

**Disclaimer - **No one here is mine except some miscellanious family members who get a passing mention in this chapter.

* * *

Jim Farrell had always prided himself on having a realistic view of life. He wasn't the sort to waste time on daydreams or wild flights of fancy or anything else that was not firmly rooted in what was true about the world. Oh there had been the inevitable boyish imaginings back when he was just a small lad, but life had done a good job of breaking him of such foolish habits. Jim took life as it was, whether he liked it or not. What was the point of doing otherwise?

Even his ticket on the Titanic had been purchased for no other reason than sheer necessity. Jim didn't harbour delusions of some bright and shining new world or the glorious new life that he was constantly hearing folks go on about. There was no new life waiting for Jim in America – there was just another version of the one he was living now. The fact was, Jim wouldn't have even been there if the damn fishing boat he'd been working on the past five years hadn't gone and gotten herself capsized. That had put Jim good and solidly out of work and, being that he was the only son in his family of six (not including his mother and the steadily growing number of grandchildren care of Clara, his older sister) that simply wouldn't do. Jim's mother had quickly taken it into her head that he ought to go to America, because Clara's husband had a cousin who'd gone to America and he'd found good work straight away. And there was certainly no good work to be had in Dublin.

So, Jim had saved his money and paid his fare without complaint and without question because that was the sensible thing to do. Things were the way they were and Jim saw no point in fighting that fact.

As the _Ireland_ pulled free of her moorings and headed out into the bay, Jim stayed well clear of the crowd that surged towards the railings to bid farewell to their homeland. He wondered bemusedly if all of those people had family standing on the docks, or if the vast majority of them were just bellowing for the sake of it. Shaking his head, Jim turned his back on the waving masses, and made his way to the forward deck of the little tender ship.

Jim would have traveled to America on pretty much anything that floated and not cared one way or the other so the fact that he'd ended up on the newest, fastest, and by all accounts, grandest ship in the world seemed a bit ironic. He had to admit to a touch of curiosity where the _Titanic_ was concerned, however. It was hard to ignore all the talk, and Jim, for all that he would have claimed otherwise, still had enough boyish wonder about him to be suitably intrigued.

In another five minutes they would pull up even with the _Titanic_. The great ship loomed before the diminutive _Ireland_ like an enormous slumbering animal. By all appearances she lived up to her reputation and even Jim could not suppress a touch of awe at the sheer size and majesty of the liner. He dropped his bag at his feet and gave a low whistle of appreciation.

The noise apparently startled the woman standing to his right because she jumped and clapped a hand over her heart, "Bloody…" She began, then cut herself off in surprise, "Well what d'ye know? Hello again."

It was Jim's turn to be surprised. Turning he found himself face to face with the red-head from the health inspection, the one with the impish grin. That expression was currently absent from her face and instead she looked rather bemused. Jim gave a small laugh, "Ye managed te get through the rest o' yer exam without attackin' yer poor doctor again I'll take it?"

And there was the smile, the one that made her look as though she was thinking of something terribly amusing but would never actually say it out loud, "Oh aye," She replied with a nod, "Though I expect he was glad te see the back o' me." She paused here and slanted a look at Jim out of the corner of her eye, "So, ye don't want te wave goodbye te the Motherland then?"

"Ah no," Jim replied with a wry twist of his mouth, "Last I checked the Motherland can't wave back, so I didn't much see the point."

The woman made a noise of agreement, "Yer right there." She turned her gaze back to the _Titanic_. They were close enough now that it seemed possible to reach out and brush the sleek black sides of the ship, though Jim knew that attempting to do so would result in nothing more than a plunge over board. "She's a beauty, i'n't she?"

Jim nodded in spite of himself, "Aye, that she is. Not that I have much te compare her to, mind."

"No, me neither, but ye can tell jus' the same." The red-head replied matter-of-factly, and Jim supposed that was true enough. Tilting her head up to take in the full height of the ship, she added; "They call her the Ship of Dreams y'know."

As a matter of fact, Jim did know – he'd read it in the papers back when the Titanic had first been completed and was still resting in the Belfast shipyard. Jim thought the title was the most ridiculous, saccharine thing he'd ever heard, nothing more than a gimmick to get people to buy tickets and he told the woman so, "Other than the fact that she's shiny an' new, there's nothin' more special 'bout this ship than the next."

If Jim had been expecting her to agree with him, he would have been disappointed. As it was, she didn't exactly disagree either, just gave him a curious sideways look that made Jim feel uncomfortably as though she saw through every inch of his cynical façade. The corner of her mouth twitched into an oddly knowing half-smile, "If ye say so." She replied evenly.

Sensing that it would be wise not to belabour the point, Jim changed the topic, "Who're ye travellin' with then?" He highly suspected that the answer was 'no body' but it seemed only polite to ask.

Confirming his hunch, she replied, "Just me an' my own self. You?"

"No one," Jim said. He gestured over his shoulder to where most of their fellow passengers were still either waving like mad things or else staring wistfully at the steadily retreating shoreline, "An' none o' yer family came te see ye off?" Jim couldn't imagine leaving one of his own sisters all by themselves to weather the chaos of the docks and boarding procedures.

The young woman shook her head, "Said g'bye te all o' them yesterday mornin'. It's easier that way. It'd be a waste o' time and money fer all o' them te parade down here just so I could blow 'em kisses from the boat." She shrugged, "Besides, I do just fine on me own." Jim detected just hint of forced bravado in this last statement, and she was further betrayed by a notable tightness in muscles of her jaw.

Something about that small trace of vulnerability endeared her to him. The fact that she was still standing there steadfastly refusing to start weeping or carrying on when clearly she'd just left behind everything and everyone she loved was highly commendable to someone like Jim. He himself had managed to pry himself away from five openly bawling sisters without getting so much as misty eyed. It wasn't that he wasn't going to miss them – because he would, terribly so – but it would not have done them, or him, any good to give in to the lump that had been in his throat the whole time he was saying goodbye, nor would it have changed the fact that he had to leave.

For a moment, the pair watched in silence as the _Ireland_ drew up alongside the _Titanic_, getting into position for the gangways to be lowered. Next to the monolithic ocean liner, the _Ireland_ must have looked like a rowboat to people watching from shore. Jim watched crewmen amassing to help with the transferral of passengers and goods and wondered how much longer it would be before they were allowed to finally board. The sudden realisation that, within the next hour, he would actually be onboard the finest ship in the world and on his way to America caused an unexpected lurch in the pit of Jim's stomach. He mentally chastised himself for getting worked up, but still couldn't help but feel a touch anxious.

There was a light tap on Jim's shoulder and he turned to find the red-headed woman staring at him in a mixture of concern and amusement, "Ye all right there?" She asked, raising one eyebrow, "Yer lookin' a touch peaky."

"I'm fine," Jim replied curtly, feeling as though he'd been caught doing something foolish.

The other eyebrow curving to match the first, she said, "All right then." And let the matter drop. Picking up her small suitcase the young woman nodded towards where the _Ireland_'s crew was fussing with the gates and added, "Looks like we could start gettin' ready te board."

Jim looked to where she had indicated and nodded his agreement, "Looks like." He shouldered his own bag then added, somewhat hesitantly, "D'ye need any help then? That is… findin' yer cabin an' all?"

She grinned at him and shook her head, "Ah no, not me. I'll be fine." She assured him, "There's a couple o' girls I met earlier, alone like me; think we're all gonna look out fer each other. In fact, they're prob'ly wonderin' where I've got te."

"Yer sure?" Jim asked. The fact that she was by herself and the fact that she was the first passenger he'd spoken to made Jim feel oddly responsible for the girl.

"Oh aye," She said, still grinning. "But thank ye very much fer the offer." Despite the ear-to-ear smile, Jim could tell that she meant that sincerely. "And I'm sure I'll be seein' plenty of ye later."

Indeed. Jim had no doubt whatsoever that they'd be spending more time in each other's company – after all, the ship was grand but steerage was steerage. There were only so many places a lowly third cabin passenger could sequester themselves. That and Jim had the sneaking suspicion that this young woman wasn't the type to go about unnoticed. Jim watched her trot away, suitcase swinging merrily at her side. It wasn't until she'd disappeared into the crowd, that Jim realised he'd forgotten to ask her name.

Nonplussed, Jim shook his head and huffed a small laugh wondering how he'd failed to get such a simple detail. He was forced to grudgingly admit that the excitement of boarding day must have gone to his head. This fact was disconcerting to Jim and he scowled at the _Titanic_'s black hull.

Jim reminded himself firmly that there was nothing to be excited about. Sure it was a big new ship, but seven days and that big new ship would be sailing away back to Britain and Jim would be once again trying to find work in one godforsaken slum or another. Ireland or America, it made no difference – that was a poor man's life. So what was so rutting exciting?

"Ship o' bloody dreams my arse." Jim said as though saying it out loud might reaffirm his opinion on the matter.

Nobody aboard the _Ireland_ seemed to share Jim's grim outlook; the passengers chattered amongst themselves in voices bright with hopeful anticipation. Pushing past Jim on their way to the gangway, they raised flushed faces to the April sky and gasped in wonder at the _Titanic_, pointing and exclaiming and exalting in the sheer glory of her existence. Jim sighed, adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and joined the flow of traffic. People would cling to whatever scrap of hope got them through the day, Jim supposed, but he knew that that kind of dreaming just let you down.

Even so… Jim paused for a moment and lifted his gaze to the _Titanic_'s gleaming white superstructure, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun. After a second or two he looked away and went to take his spot in the line. She _was_ a very grand ship. The ship of dreams, perhaps not, but very grand.

Jim didn't see the harm of conceding on that particular point.


	4. Godspeed Titanic

**A/N** - Phew, long chapter! But lots of stuff happens, so hopefully it's still interesting. Herein, we finally get on the ship and we meet a couple new characters, neither of whom ever existed anywhere but my own brain. They'll be the only originals in the fic I think, other than the random mentions of Kate et al's respective families. Herein, we also see the one factoid that practically drove me up the wall, and that is the numbering of cabins. GAH. Would it absolutely KILL someone to put an good-sized, legible version of the deck plans online somewhere? I mean honestly. I managed to find some pretty good ones that at least let me visualise where I wanted the girls to end up, but I sure couldn't tell by looking what cabin numbers those were supposed to be. For the record, I picture them on F-deck, about as far forward in the ship as single women were permitted to be. So, for the curious, I picked cabins surrounding an Irish girl named Katie Gilnagh (yes, another Kate. There were, like, fifteen of them or something. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up) who sailed on the Titanic and was berthed in cabin M-133. Unfortunately, I have no idea where that cabin was actually situated so for all I know I'm off the mark completely. Anyhow... that was a major digression. Apologies.

One more important note - I'm going away on vacation for the next ten days (leaving in the morning) and I'll have very limited, if any internet access so it'll be a longer stertch of time before I can update again. So it's probably a good thing that this chapter is long. Plus, it gives me time to work out a few kinks that have arisen in the next few chapters which is awesome for me.

Lastly, huge, enormous, ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE thanks to **LazyChestnut** and **Pretty Lady Pansy** for their kind words about the last chapter. You guys rock the house, indeed you do.

ETA: After receiving the most amazing birthday present ever - massive tome called Titanic: Triumph and Tragedy - I have, in my posession, proper deck plans. Thus, the girls' room numbers have been changed accordingly.

* * *

"Ye didn't get his name?"

"No."

"Ye were talkin' fer near on ten minutes, how'd ye manage te not get his _name_?"

Kate laughed at Murphy's complete bafflement on this matter and grinned at her over her shoulder, "It never came up." She said unconcernedly. "Besides," Kate added with just a touch of smugness, "Now he's got a reason te come lookin' fer me again."

Murphy made a noise that indicated that she was either slightly disapproving or slightly impressed by these antics, "Yer awful." She admonished half-heartedly.

"I s'pose I am a little." Kate replied with a guilty smile, "Next time I see him, first thing I'll do is introduce m'self. Oy! Kate Mullins, how ye doin' there?"

Kate Mullins was ahead of Kate on the gangway and she kept pausing and shooting nervous glances over the high sides of the ramp as though afraid that a sudden wave might come along and sweep her out to sea. Her jumpy progress was holding up the line. Realising this, Mullins tore her gaze away from the rails and stared fixedly at her boots instead, "'M sorry. We're jus' so high up!"

Patting her consolingly on the shoulder, Kate said' "It's fine, just keep movin' and we'll be safe on board in no time."

Mullins brightened considerably at this prospect and picked up her pace, "I've never seen the ocean before." She commented, "Only in pictures."

"Well, we'll soon be seein' plenty of it, won't we?" Kate replied cheerfully. The trio had reached the open door leading into the depths of the _Titanic_. Peering anxiously over the heads of the officers manning the door, Kate could make out clean white walls and real electric lights dotting the hallways. A thrill went through her like lightning.

"Mother of God, we're really here aren't we?" Kate Murphy breathed, unconsciously speaking Kate's thoughts out loud.

Unable to speak around the sudden, inexplicable lump in her throat, Kate could only nod dumbly in response. Mutely, she handed over her boarding papers one final time. Kate held her breath as the documents were given a perfunctory once-over, then wonderfully, miraculously, she found herself stepping off the ramp and onto the _Titanic_.

Kate had never seen a place so new in her entire life. Every inch gleamed with the freshness of virgin snow, as of yet unmarred by age and use. Breathing deeply, Kate could smell new paint and floor polish and something else that she couldn't identify but that brought to mind open fields and the wind right after a rainfall. It made Kate feel slightly giddy.

"Where d'we go now then?" Kate Mullins asked finally as Murphy retrieved her papers and joined the group. The blond woman was staring around herself with eyes wide as bread plates, as though she was afraid to blink and have the scene dissolve like an early morning dream.

Doing her best to pretend as though she wasn't overwhelmed and that she didn't feel as though her stomach had tied itself into a dozen knots, Kate said, "I s'pose we've gotta find our rooms." She glanced around, trying to find some indication of where they had to go, "Er… let's move along a bit, we're blockin' folks. I'm sure there's a sign or somethin' somewhere te tell us the right way."

The threesome moved through the hallway with their arms looped through each other's arms, forming an anxious human knot. They paused near the top of a promising-looking staircase, keeping to one side so as not to disrupt the passage of people coming up and down the stairs. Kate scrutinised her ticket, frowning, "Ye'd think they could've written these in plain English." She grumbled, trying to make sense of the various numbers and letters that were her identity in the ship's roster. Squinting at the bottom left corner of the ticket, Kate said, "Ah, I think this is it – 'M one hundred an' seventy one'. What about you lot?"

"Oh! I'm right near that!" Mullins exclaimed, bouncing up and down. Kate was already growing accustomed to the other woman's natural excitability but she still had to wonder if Mullins ever got really and truly downcast. Somehow, Kate didn't think so. "Mine says 'M one seven three'. Must be right next door te ye Kate!"

Kate Murphy proved to be berthed just across the hall in cabin number M-one-seventy-seven. Kate Mullins wasted no time in proclaiming that this proved their meeting each other to be fate, "Else we'd of ended up separated ev'ry which way."

Not seeing any reason to argue this point, Kate merely grinned and waved an arm in the direction of the staircase, "Well, let's get movin'. I'd like te find my room 'fore the ship leaves port."

They traipsed down the stairs, still gawking around at how clean everything was. It made Kate feel like she was a real passenger who mattered, not just a poor little steerage nothing. At the bottom of the stairs, they pushed past a small knot of people who were all speaking to each other in a language Kate couldn't identify. She glanced over her shoulder at them, fascinated by the way the syllables rolled off of their tongues in intricate patterns and shapes. The familiar, lilting Irish voices of herself and her companions sounded almost plain in comparison.

"I thought ye weren't one fer goodbyes?" Murphy asked, snapping Kate's attention away from the curiosity of the foreign speakers.

"What're ye on about?" Kate asked, tilting her head to one side.

Murphy gestured above her head in a vague sort of way, "Ye didn't wave g'bye with the rest of us on the tender boat, but ye said ye wanted te be on deck when the ship pulled away."

Kate laughed, "Aye, and who said anythin' about wavin' g'bye then?" Off of Murphy's puzzled look she explained, "We're headin' to a new world Kate Murphy and I fer one want te see this boat get on its way, else I'm not sure I'll be able te believe we're really leavin'."

It was unclear whether or not Murphy fully understood this logic, but she nodded anyway and said, "Then we'd better hurry up."

The ship housed a labyrinth in its belly. The corridors with their white-painted walls and reddish flooring all looked the same to the three Kates, all of whom were still too floored by the simple fact of their actually _being _there to register any landmarks or defining features. It was only through careful inspection of the signs, and the eventual help of a steward who pointed them in the right direction that the women managed not to get completely lost.

Kate found her cabin door propped open and two occupants already inside. It was a four bunk cabin, small, but not so cramped as to be uncomfortable. The pair of women who looked up in surprise as Kate entered the room looked so much alike that they could only be sisters. One appeared younger than the other, maybe fifteen or sixteen. The older sister was probably Kate's age, no older than twenty. They had claimed the two bunks on the left hand side of the room.

"Hello there!" Kate greeted cheerfully, "Guess we're roommates then?"

The sisters exchanged looks, than the older one stepped forward and stammered out in heavily accented English, "H-hallo." She shot her sister a helpless little look, then shrugged and smiled sheepishly at Kate, indicating that this was the extent of her English skills.

Kate blinked. She had never been confronted with someone who didn't speak her language, and short of being able to say 'hello' in French, Kate had no experience with foreign dialects. "Er… well. I'm Kate." The younger sister asked a question in a language that Kate thought might have been German. A German businessman had once stopped for lunch at the inn Kate worked at and she'd never forgotten his guttural accent; it was so different from what Kate was used to. Realising that the sisters had no idea what she'd just said, Kate pointed to her self and repeated, "I'm Kate."

The older girl seemed to understand. She beamed suddenly, pointed at Kate and asked in her halting way, "Kate?" When Kate nodded an affirmative, the young woman beamed even harder. She prodded herself in the chest and said, "Petra," than indicated the teenage girl, "Mathilde."

This small breakthrough had all three of them grinning at each other as though they'd just put an end to world hunger or found a cure for consumption. Kate patted the top bunk on the right hand side of the room, and shot Petra a questioning look. Petra took a moment to interpret what Kate was asking, then nodded, "Ja, ja," She said, which was at least one word that needed no translation. Kate grinned and swung her small suitcase up onto the bunk. She was already trying to figure out how much German a person could learn in the space of five days. It looked to be a promising challenge.

A knock at the still-open cabin door signalled the arrival of Kates Mullins and Murphy who had evidently made fast work of settling themselves in their respective rooms. "Girls," Kate said, sweeping her arm out towards her two roommates, "These are Petra and Mathilde." She stumbled over the pronunciation a little; "I think they're sisters but I'm not sure as neither of 'em speak a lick of English."

Mullins and Murphy waved at the German women. Both Petra and Mathilde immediately waved back, proving that certain gestures were universal, which was a particularly comforting thought. Kate couldn't keep from grinning again.

"Petra, these are my friends," Kate continued indicating first Murphy than Mullins, "Kate and Kate."

Petra looked understandably nonplussed. She narrowed her eyes at Kate, as though trying to decide whether or not this strange English woman with the funny accent was making fun of her. Then she pointed to each of the three Irish girls and held up three fingers, arching one eyebrow in a silent inquiry. Positively delighted by this non-verbal exchange, Kate clapped her hands together and nodded vigorously. Petra, looking extremely pleased with herself, translated the proceedings for Mathilde, who was looking as though she thought that both her sister and Kate had lost their minds.

"Well…" Kate Murphy said after a beat, "Are ye comin' then? Ship's gotta be about ready te get movin' by now. "

"Oh aye," Kate did a bit of hand flapping and pointing to indicate where she was going, and Petra must have caught the gist of it because she waved the three Kates away with a smile and a nod.

The trip back through the maze that was Third Class was easier the second time around. Kate tried to make a mental note of signs that directed passengers to various locales around the ship. They passed several clumps of non-English travellers who were trying to translate the signs with help of little battered phrase books. Kate had to thank her lucky stars that, despite the numerous other challenges she was facing, at least learning the language wasn't one of them.

The main Third Class staircase was located in the stern of the ship, closer to the cabins reserved for women and families. Eavesdropping on a middle-aged Welsh couple walking a little ways ahead, Kate learned that the men's dorms were up in the bow, placing a ship's length between the single women and their male counterparts. Kate had to laugh inwardly, wondering if this show of propriety would actually work to keep a pair of determined enough lovers apart.

Kate and her friends climbed the staircase which, at the top, spilled out onto the aft well deck. A blast from the Titanic's great funnels and the low clear sound of a steam whistle welcomed the three women out onto the deck, signalling that they were just in time to witness leaving port. Kate made a beeline for the closest open spot at the rails, the others in close pursuit. Because this was the third port of call, and because the _Titanic_ was already sitting out in the middle of the harbour, not as many people had flocked to the decks to see the great ship set off. There were still a fair few, however, enough to line the railings of the well deck.

A rumbling began beneath Kate's feet and a swooping sensation filled her gut, as though her stomach had just attempted to take a nose dive out of her body. It almost made her feel sick. Clutching the railing with sweat-slick hands, Kate took several deep breaths through her nose, trying to calm herself down.

For two months this voyage had been all she could think about, all she would let herself think about. At times, it had seemed like the only thing that kept her chin up, kept her putting one foot in front of the other. She had imagined the trip down to the most infinitesimal detail, holding the image in her mind's eye like an invisible shield. I'm getting out, she would tell herself, over and over like a mantra. I'm getting _out_.

The ship began to crawl forward and a cheer went up from the crowd. Kate didn't trust herself to cheer, did not trust herself to make any noise at all, in fact. She leaned out over the rails as far as she could manage safely, one hand pressed to the back of her head to keep her hat in place. Kate looked toward the _Titanic_'s bow, watching the water begin to flow around the great, black hull as she gained speed.

The wind picked up, blowing Kate's hair back from her face and pushing playfully against the wide brim of her hat. Closing her eyes, Kate let the breeze sweep over her, fresh and clean and tasting of salt. She imagined the wind gathering up all of her secrets, all of her sins and blowing them back to shore where they couldn't touch her.

"I thought I'd be so sad leavin' everythin' behind" Mullins said from over Kate's left shoulder, half-shouting to be heard over the noise of the ship and the people. Kate turned to look at her in surprise, "An' I s'pose I am a little. But mostly I'm excited." She beamed at Kate through a tangle of blond hair that kept blowing into her eyes, "Aren't ye excited Kate?"

Excited hardly covered it. But then, Kate wasn't sure there was a word big enough for how she felt. She nodded at Kate Mullins, feeling her own mouth pulling into a grin as she did so, "Aye, I am."

Mullins grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. Kate, touched by the gesture, squeezed back then took Murphy's hand as well so that the three of them were standing linked together across the top of the railings, a chain.

"Well girls," Kate said, eyes on the horizon, "Here we go."


	5. Shall we All Meet

**A/N:** Hello all, I have returned from the great wide wilderness of my vacation and so I bring to you this chapter. Yes, that sentence sounds just as weird to me as it does to you but I'm leaving it like that! MUAHAHAHA. Heh. A-a-a-anyhoo, the trip was very nice, though it put me rather behind in my writing. Formerly I was two full chapters ahead of myself and now...not so much. I'm not sure if that will affect anything update-wise in the future but I thought I'd mention it. Besides, there are only, like, two people reading this fic (though this story's stats say otherwise I've seen no evidence of more. You crazy lurkers you.) so I'm not feeling quite so much pressure. Not that I don't appreciate the two readers I do have but I know them both to be lovely understanding individuals and...now I don't even know where I'm going with this so I'll shut up.

There was something else I was going to say about this chapter but I've forgotten what it was. Hmmm. I feel like it was important too, though obviously not too important or else I'd remember. Ah well, whatever, I'll just let you peeps read it and tell me what you think. About the chapter, not what I've forgotten. Indeed.

Thanks, as always to **LazyChestnut** and **Pretty Lady Pansy** for being awesome reviewers. You guys are da bestest.

* * *

The three young women remained up on deck long after most of the crowd had already dispersed. None of them were the slightest bit inclined to go back into the depths of the ship, not when the sun was so bright and there was so much ocean stretching out before them. Kate wanted to explore every inch of her new territory, and while this would eventually draw her inside right now she couldn't think of anything she'd rather be doing than prowling the decks out in open air.

Kate and her companions walked the well deck from end to end, inspecting every corner. They tested out the sturdy wooden benches imagining themselves to be the very first people ever to sit in that spot, which they very well might have been. They traipsed up staircases and craned their necks to see if they could catch a glimpse of some of the first class passengers out promenading on their own decks. They finished off their ramble hanging over the edge of the railings watching the sea water rushing along the sides of the ship, kicking up lacy fountains of foam.

"My sister'd love te see this," Kate Mullins said wistfully, gazing spellbound into the waves, "Lucy - she's fifteen. She was s'posed te come along ye know. Only she took sick an' we knew she'd never pass the exam."

Kate leaned back against the railing enjoying the sun on her face, "None of my brothers would've come along sick or otherwise. Not an ounce of ambition or imagination in any of 'em."

"But ye'll miss 'em just the same I expect." Kate Murphy said knowingly, "I've got seven brothers and sisters an' I've never had a bed te m'self in all my life even though I've always wanted one. And still I know full well the second I lay down t'night I'll miss having Mae kickin' me every other minute."

They all laughed at this, knowing how true a sentiment it was. Kate tossed her curls back over one shoulder and said, "Sure I'll miss 'em enough. Prob'ly more then they'll miss me." Both of the others started to protest, but Kate waved them quiet, "Nah, it's true. I never did fit in with the men of my fam'ly – think I was a bit perplexin' to 'em te tell the truth. It's me Mam I'll miss most. She understands me best."

This statement brought an unexpected catch to Kate's throat and she turned to stare fixedly out to sea, blinking hard. If her friends noticed this, they had the tact not to say anything, letting the conversation lapse into amiable silence. After a moment, Kate Mullins said, "Let's go up there."

Kate, glad for the distraction, looked where she was pointing. There was another level of third class deck space that they had yet to explore; a funny spade-shaped section at the very stern of the ship. Kate supposed that it had some fancy nautical name or another, but she didn't know what it was. But there were a few clusters of people meandering around up there and Kate could almost bet that the view out the back of the ship was really spectacular, both of which were excellent reasons to heed Mullins' request.

"All right," Kate said with a mischievous half-smile, "I'll race ye to the top. Ready, go!"

She took off running before either of the other two girls could even process what she'd said. Mullins shrieked and bolted after her, "Kate McGowan ye bloody cheater!" She bellowed around gasps of laughter. The trio jostled each other up the steps, howling with mirth, and ended up in a helplessly giggling pile at the top of the staircase.

"What, are ye twelve years old then?" Kate Murphy gasped, trying and failing miserably to look reproachful.

Kate shook her head, "Couldn't help m'self." She said, still giggling. Kate pressed a hand to her lower abdomen and wondered if she wasn't just a touch hysterical. Gazing around she found that, short of a little olive-skinned lady who was scowling at them from over the folds of her wool shawl, most of the other passengers were too caught up in their own conversations to pay their antics any mind.

Almost immediately Kate decided that she liked this spot better than the well deck. It had a more open feeling than the lower deck, and the wind could get at you more easily. It wasn't the fancy first class promenade by any means, but it would do just fine for Kate.

Kate was busy trying to guess how high above sea level they were when Murphy nudged her with an elbow, "Say Kate, isn't that yer future husband?"

"Ooooh, where?" Mullins squealed whirling around so violently that she almost toppled over.

"Right there," Murphy replied, while Kate caught Mullins' arm to keep the other woman from injuring herself, "In the brown coat, near the back there, ye see?"

Kate cast a careful sideways glance in the direction Murphy meant and immediately felt a slow smile creep across her face, "Oh aye, that's him all right."

A squeak in Kate's ear told her that Mullins had spotted him as well, "What're ye waitin' fer then? Go talk to him Kate!"

"Aye, budge along," Murphy said drily, "If ye make quick work of it we can have the weddin' over an' done with 'fore the sun sets."

Kate kicked Murphy lightly in the shin in response and lifted her chin imperiously, "Fine then smarty-miss, I will." She said, doing a sharp little spin on her heel and heading away.

"An' get his damn name this time!" Murphy called after her. Kate stuck her tongue out at Murphy over her shoulder and marched off without breaking stride. She could hear both girls dissolving into laughter at her back.

There was no doubt in Kate's mind that he'd seen her coming, though he was doing a commendable job of pretending that he hadn't. She had the sneaking suspicion that he'd spotted her the minute she and her friends had come staggering onto the deck. This wasn't a particularly comfortable thought considering that Kate wanted to make a good impression on this fellow and being caught acting like a giddy child wasn't the best way to go about doing so.

Drawing up alongside him, Kate propped her elbows on the railing top and said, with no preamble, "Told ye I'd be seein' more of ye, didn't I?"

The young man gave her a supremely bemused sideways look, "Well, ye certainly have no problem makin' yer presence known, do ye?" He said by way of reply, nodding in the direction of Mullins and Murphy, both of whom were doing an abysmal job of acting like they weren't trying to watch what was going on.

Kate shrugged, "Not somethin' I've struggled with in recent mem'ry, no" she said unconcernedly, though she was sure from the warmth in her face that her cheeks had gone slightly pink. Straightening up, Kate stuck out her hand, "I'm Katherine McGowan - Kate." She said, "Never did manage te introduce m'self earlier."

The man raised an eyebrow at Kate's outstretched hand as though unsure what she intended him to do with it. Kate felt her own eyebrow arch into a quizzical expression to match, "It's just a handshake. Ye don't hafta kiss it or anythin'."

With a small laugh, the man took Kate's hand and gave it a perfunctory shake, "Jim Farrell." He said, "An' most women I know are too busy bein' coy and ladylike te offer a handshake to a strange man."

"Jim Farrell." Kate repeated, trying the name out, "Pleased te be meetin' ye proper." She grinned, "An' if bein' ladylike means I gotta bat me eyelashes and flounce around like a daft idiot instead o' just shakin' hands like a normal person, then I'll just keep on bein' the way I am. Saves a whole lot o' trouble when ev'ryone just comes out and does what they mean te do." She eyed him carefully, trying to gauge a reaction to this proclamation, "Besides, _Jim Farrell_, this is the third time we've spoken t'day, so far as I'm concerned yer not a stranger at all."

Jim stared at her for a beat or two, "Are ye always like this then?" He said finally.

Kate blinked, "Like what?"

"Talkin' the ear off of any poor soul as happens te cross yer path." Jim replied.

Kate couldn't keep from flinching, "I…" For the first time since meeting Jim that morning she floundered for words. It wasn't as though she'd never been called out for prattling like an idiot –her childhood had consisted mainly of her father telling her to shut up and sweep the floor for God's sake, did she think the chores got done by magic? – but that didn't make it any easier to take. "…no... That's not…"

"Ah, so she _can_ be at a loss fer words then," Jim said to no one in particular, leaning back against the railing and slanting a look at Kate from under the peak of his cap.

"Well," Kate snapped indignantly, drawing herself up to her full height, which, admittedly, was not particularly impressive, "If ye don't like it I can leave. Makes no diff'rence te me."

Jim gave her a look of utter bewilderment, "Now I never said that did I?" He looked so nonplussed that Kate forgot her momentary flare of temper and almost laughed out loud, "Ye can stay here an' talk all ye damn well please, I won't stop ye."

Mollified, Kate smiled and flapped her hand dismissively, "Ah pay no mind te me." She said, "My tongue an' my temper are the two things most likely te get me into trouble an' I'm afraid I can't much control either of 'em."

"Ye don't say?" Jim replied with a distinctly dry note to his voice. Kate flashed him a half-hearted glare that turned into a grin mid-way through the process. Jim shook his head bemusedly and decided to change the topic, "So ye got family waitin' fer ye in America then?"

"Not so much as a cousin." Kate said, "I'm the first o' my folks te make the trip. Prob'ly the last too if my Da and brothers got any say in the matter. We don't know any body as lives in America."

"Is that right?" Jim said. His expression was surprise tinged with what might have been something like admiration.

Kate nodded, "Yessir." She raised one eyebrow, "What, d'ye find that odd? Me headin' off into God knows what all by m'self?"

Jim laughed, "Well, yes, as a matter o' fact."

"Me too since ye mention it," Kate said, laughing herself. She hesitated and then added, "Truth be told I wouldn't much mind havin' someone te meet me once we arrive. Enough people have left Ireland by now that I'm sure I've at least got a friend of a friend of a friend over there." Kate shrugged "But me gettin' this ticket was a last minute thing an' we didn't have time te make proper arrangements."

"Oh aye?" Jim said thoughtfully. He frowned at her for a moment then asked, "An' what made ye decide te pack up an' leave so sudden?"

Kate blanched visibly at the question, "What?"

Jim looked perplexed, "Er… what part are ye confused about?"

"I… none of it… I just thought…" Kate stammered, tapering off into a shaky silence. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. When Kate spoke again her voice had mostly returned to its normal tone so that anyone listening in might have thought that they'd imagined the momentary lapse. "Well, ye know how it is, work bein' so hard te find and all – an' me bein' the oldest in me family it falls te me te go. Only it took a while te convince me Da that's how it should be."

Jim nodded in agreement, but Kate had the unpleasant feeling that he didn't quite believe her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other self-consciously until Jim's face creased into an expression of concern, "Ye feelin' all right then?"

Kate titled her head to one side, "I am, why?"

"Yer holdin' yer stomach is all." Jim replied, gesturing at her. Looking down, Kate saw that she had once again pressed both of her hands to her mid-section, her fingers interlaced like a cage across her belly.

Cursing inwardly, Kate tore her hands apart and dropped both arms to her sides as though scalded by her own skin, "I'm fine." She said, forcing her voice to stay light. Kate had spent the better part of two weeks trying to break herself of that newly-acquired habit for the express purpose of preventing people from asking uncomfortable questions. Here she was not even a day into the voyage and Kate had caught herself at that tell-tale action twice already. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself.

Though Jim did not look entirely convinced of her truthfulness, he shrugged, "Figured so – ye don't seem the type te get seasick." He studied her for a moment, "So yer not at all worried, goin' to a new place and not knowin' anyone?"

"Never said I wasn't worried." Kate reminded him, relieved that he had returned to their previous topic of conversation, "Sure I am a little. But mostly not, mostly I'm lookin' forward to gettin' there."

Jim made an incredulous noise in the back of his throat, "An' what on Earth about bleedin' America is so great that yer this excited about it?"

Kate frowned at him, "It's a new world Jim Farrell." She said, folding her arms across her chest, "It's a chance te start all over, te be a new person. Doesn't that mean anythin' to ye?"

"I s'pose if that's how ye see it." Jim replied, leaning back against the railings. He scratched beneath the brim of his cap and shrugged again, "M'self I figure nothin'll change except the place I'm livin'."

Tilting her head to one side, Kate gave him a long look. She couldn't decide if Jim actually felt that way, or if he just said so to convince himself that it was true. Jim, noticing her stare, arched one eyebrow as though challenging her to counter his statement. Kate smirked but did not rise to the bait.

"Well," Jim said suddenly, straightening up, "I'm goin' back below." Kate had the distinct impression that she'd managed to make him uncomfortable. For some reason this thought amused her. "Make sure ye tell yer friends every detail of our conversation else they'll be disappointed." He added with a nod towards Mullins and Murphy.

Kate rolled her eyes, "Very funny." She admonished with a grin. Jim touched the peak of his cap in farewell, half-smiled and started off. He got a few feet away before Kate called out, "I don't believe you, ye know."

Jim turned back, startled, "What're ye about now?"

"I don't believe that yer not excited." Kate said simply, "I think ye are an' ye just don't want te admit it." Without giving him a chance to reply one way or another, Kate flashed him one last grin, said, "Goodbye fer now Jim Farrell," and turned away to rejoin her friends. Though she did not look back to confirm, Kate had the strongest suspicion that he watched her the entire way.

"Well?" Kate Mullins hissed the moment Kate was back within earshot, "How'd it go then?"

Kate finally looked back just in time to see Jim disappear down the steps that led to the well deck, "That," She announced, "is Jim Farrell. And we're gonna be great friends, you wait an' see."


	6. The Greatest Ship That Ever Sailed

**A/N** - For no definable reason, I find this chapter strange. It think it's because its so short - it used to be part of what will eventually be Chapter Seven, but that combined chapter had already hit twelve pages long and wasn't done yet, so I opted to split it up. The end of this chapter was a very natural spot to break, but the result is that it's rather smaller than normal. But heck, that can be a good thing sometimes. So whatevs.

Point of interest - from here on in, any miscellanious person who shows up in the fic is a real person unless I say otherwise in the notes. Another thing that people might be curious about (though probably not and now I'm just yammering on for no real reason) is that the chapter titles in this fic are all lyrics from the songs in the musical. And though you might have to squint to see it, they do have relevance to the chapters they're paired with. And that is my totally random and useless factoid of the day.

Thanks to **LC **for being consistantly awesome and thatnks also to the inordinate number of lurkers that this fic has garnered ;) Thanks for reading!

* * *

In the hours he'd been at sea so far, the only solid conclusion that Jim had drawn about the _Titanic_ was that she was all together bigger than any ship had any reasonable right to be. Perhaps her size was necessary to please the first class swells – no doubt each of them had a cabin bigger than Jim's family home – but down in the relative confines of steerage, the liner's enormity seemed somewhat superfluous. Jim had worked fishing boats since he was fifteen and so he'd have had no complaint over cramped, stuffy cabins if it meant not having to spend ten minutes just figuring which way to point yourself every time you stepped out of your room. He did have to admit, however, that being able to move around without tripping over another human being every second was a novel experience.

That said; it was still with a roll of the eyes and a muttered oath that Jim finally came upon the third class dining saloon. Even the trip to that room, which was located amid ship so that everyone had to travel a more-or-less equal distance to get there, was no quick jaunt from the cabins. One thing was certain – Jim wasn't going to be wanting for exercise by the end of this journey.

The saloon was divided in two by a bulkhead that ran up the center of the room. Jim was assigned to take his meals in the aft section. He had discovered through conversation with his roommates that third class passengers, while not assigned specific seats in the dining hall, were designated certain areas based on where they'd embarked from and who, if anyone, they were travelling with. It was easy enough to figure out where Jim had been assigned to eat his meals; he'd just look for the tables with all the single-travelling Irish people.

Almost immediately Jim spotted one of his cabin mates, a young farmhand called Roger Tobin, sitting at a table that was only partially occupied. Jim didn't immediately join him, taking a moment to scan the rest of the room. It wasn't until a flash of red hair caught his eye that Jim realised that he was half hoping to spot that McGowan girl somewhere in a crowd of diners. The person who'd made him turn around, however, was a carrot-topped, thirty-something woman whom Jim had never seen before and she passed him by without so much as a glance

Jim couldn't deny that he was mildly disappointed, which was, of course, completely ridiculous. If he sat with Roger and some of the other men he could have a nice peaceful meal, whereas Kate was far more likely to chatter him to death. Besides, did he really need to spend another conversation that involved her giving him that odd look like she knew every one of his secrets? No he did not.

The matter settled, Jim headed towards the area that Roger occupied. He dropped into the nearest open seat, which happened to be situated at the end of the table, greeting the men he knew already and introducing himself to those he didn't. The men were a cheerful, friendly bunch that didn't seem to have any compulsion to talk about anything the slightest bit important. Currently they were swapping tales of wild episodes from their youth, most of which involved girls and heavy drinking.

Jim had just decided that this suited him fine and that he would much rather be sitting here listening to the lads relive their glory days than listening to Kate prattle on about…whatever it was she'd choose to prattle about… when a voice over his shoulder said, "Well, good evenin' to ye Jim Farrell."

Utterly bemused, Jim turned around to find Kate McGowan watching him from the adjacent table. She had her elbows on the table top and had propped her chin on her folded hands. When he met her gaze she grinned at him. Jim rolled his eyes, "Good evenin' yerself Kate McGowan." He said, "How is it we've not even been on this ship a full day an' I've hardly managed te take five steps without bumpin' into ye?"

"Must be yer just terribly lucky," Kate replied drily, matching his tone precisely.

Jim snorted, "Oh aye? Yer not gonna try an' tell me it's fate then?"

Kate pursed her lips, "I don't believe in fate," she said shortly. This surprised him – somehow she'd seemed the sort to buy into romantic ideas of destiny. As though Kate sensed that he'd made this assumption a small smirk pulled at her mouth but she didn't say anything else. After a moment, she unfolded her hands and indicated the two people sitting across the table from her. Jim recognised them immediately as the two young women who had been with Kate on the deck earlier that day. "Jim, these are my friends. That one's Kate Murphy, and the other's Kate Mullins."

Jim felt both eyebrows shoot halfway up his forehead; "Yer pullin' my leg." He said eyeing the other two girls suspiciously.

"No, she's not." The brunette – Kate Murphy – replied, twisting her mouth to one side, "An' believe you me it's just as uncanny to us and it is te you."

"I don't doubt it," Jim intoned, looking from one Kate to the other until his eyes made it back to Kate McGowan. Somehow it was not the least bit surprising that Kate would do something as unlikely as unwittingly befriend two girls with the same name as her. Before the voyage was over, she'd probably manage to become life-long chums with every Kate in third class, just because it amused her to go around bewildering people.

As though reading his mind, Kate said, "Believe it or not, I didn't do it on purpose."

"My mother almost named me Deidre after me Granma, but my cousin was born first so she got te be Deirdre instead," Kate Mullins supplied, somewhat randomly, from the far side of Kate Murphy.

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed this odd tidbit of information. "Anyway," Kate McGowan chimed back in shooting Mullins the tiniest amused look, "What've ye been up te since this afternoon Jim?"

"Other'n wander the ship from back te front, not a hell of a lot." Jim replied. The actual fact was that he'd never had so much free time in his life. His days had been spent working from dawn to dusk, coming home to tend to whatever things needed doing that couldn't be managed by his mother and sisters, and then sleeping for whatever few hours remained after that. "What else is there te do?" He looked at Kate and, intuiting what she was about to say, beat her to the punch, "Wait, don't say it, lemme guess – I'm on the grandest ship in the entire world, how can I possibly say there's nothin' te do – was that close?"

Kate gave him a withering look, "Oh ha ha," She said. A twinkle in her eyes told Jim that she wasn't the slightest bit put-off by his teasing, "An' actually, I was gonna say that, since them that built this ship've prob'ly spent all their money makin' sure the rich folks have ways te keep amused, it'll be up te us te find ways of entertainin' our own selves. Which," She added with a sly grin, "shouldn't be too hard bein' that we're on the grandest ship in the world."

Jim laughed in spite of himself, "Well, I knew ye'd work that in somewhere."

"Of course." Kate replied, "I wouldn't want te disappoint ye."

For no reason that Jim could discern, Kate Murphy began humming the first few bars of the Wedding March, drawing a finger along the rim of her water goblet and apparently paying no one else any mind. Mullins started to giggle. Kate silenced both at once by dealing Murphy a swift kick – one that Jim was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to have noticed – under the table.

"Ye must be in the bow, yeah?" Kate asked, still glaring at her friends, "Yer cabin I mean."

Trying to not look too alarmed by the fact that Mullins had buried her face in her arms and appeared to be having some kind of spasm, Jim said, "Er…yes." He indicated Mullin's shaking shoulders and said, "Is she all right?"

"She's fine." Kate said as though nothing the slightest bit out of the ordinary was happening, "_Aren't_ ye Kate Mullins?"

Mullins squeaked and raised her head so that just her eyes were showing, "Yes. Fine."

Kate Murphy, who was the only one of the threesome who still appeared completely composed, said indignantly, "Aren't ye gonna kick her too then?"

Ignoring this question completely, Kate shifted so that neither of her friends were in her direct line of vision and asked, "How d'ye get back te the stern from there? We were tryin' te figure out how te get te the forward decks, but we couldn't figure out any way 'cept te cut through the dinin' saloon."

"Ye gotta go up a level," Jim explained, "There's one long hall stretches the length of the ship, back te front. Heard some people call it Scotland Road."

Mullins had apparently overcome her temporary fit, though she was still rather red in the face, "Why d'ye s'pose they call it that then?"

Jim shrugged, "Beats me."

"We'll have te try that tomorrow, won't we girls?" Kate said merrily. She grinned at Jim and added, with a wicked glint in her eye, "Since there's nothin' else te do on this whole big ship." He rolled his eyes.

Before anyone could say anything else, several white-uniformed stewards appeared and began setting out the meal. Jim thought that the serving men looked slightly uncomfortable in their starched, ivory jackets and he guessed that the third-class stewards were likely of the ilk not used to such finery. It stood to reason; surely the line would have reserved their top, most well-trained stewards and stewardesses for the first class passengers. Still, Jim supposed it was to White Star's credit that third-class had stewards at all.

"Well then," Kate said as one of the white-coated men plunked a basket of rolls on the table in front of her, "I s'pose I'll let ye get back te yer chums," She indicated the men seated at Jim's table. With a start, Jim realised that he'd all but forgotten they were there. "Enjoy yer food."

Jim inclined in head in her direction, "Aye, I will at that." He nodded to the remaining two Kates, "It was nice meetin' ye."

Turning back to his table, Jim tried to pick up the bead of the lads' conversation but found that he had less interest in the raucous talk of women and liquor then he had previously. Consequently, Jim ate most of his meal in virtual silence; a nice, peaceful hour without a constant stream of chatter in his ear. And wasn't that what he'd wanted?


	7. What a Remarkable Age

**A/N** - I had a alot of fun writing this chapter. There really isn't much to say beyond that, except that you can probably see why I split this from the chapter before. Kate and Jim are ridiculously satisfying to write dialogue for. Their voices just seem to..._ happen_. Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it! Huge thanks to everyone who's read the story so far - it means a lot!

* * *

After dinner, Jim agreed to join Roger in the third class General Room for a game of cards. There was nothing to bet but bragging rights and a few scattered coins, but that didn't seem to stop anyone. In fact, within a few hours, the small game between Roger, Jim and two other men had evolved into something of an impromptu tournament.

Jim, for his part, had folded ages before. Usually he was quite good at Poker, being blessed with an ability to compose his features into a mask of near permanent impassiveness, but tonight he found it hard to concentrate and rather than getting himself good and properly trounced, Jim opted to back out. After all, he had nearly five days left to spend with these fellows; there'd be plenty of time for him to beat their sorry arses later on.

Alternating between watching the two final players – an Irishman named Patrick Dooley and a burly Croatian fellow called Ivan Strilic – attempt to bore holes in each other with the power of their eyes, and observing the rest of the room, Jim decided that nights like this wouldn't be so hard to take. The General Room was easily the social hub of third class and it seemed that nearly all of steerage had settled there to pass the rest of the evening. Merry voices filled the air, laughing and chattering amongst themselves in more languages than Jim could even begin to name. Children chased each other, shrieking with glee, in and out of the rows of teak benches, while their mothers exchanged harried looks and rolled eyes. Families and friends and new acquaintances alike sat together laughing and swapping stories, while someone – Jim couldn't see who – tinkered around on the piano. It was a pleasant, welcoming atmosphere and Jim thought it felt a little bit like home.

The trio of Kates were there was well; Jim had spotted them almost the moment they'd stepped into the room. Kate McGowan's unruly curls were easy to pick out of a crowd. She was seated across the room from the raucous mob that surrounded the poker game engaged in animated conversation with Mullins and Murphy, a pair of nearly identical blond girls and few other, apparently single ladies whom Jim didn't recognise. Jim found his eye getting pulled to that corner more often than anywhere else, a fact that did nothing but annoy him. He told himself that it wasn't just because Kate was over there, that it was more because that group of women was the largest and most vocal of any other in the room, save for the audience of the card game.

Jim had nearly convinced himself that this was true when Kate suddenly got up from her seat. From his constant glances in that direction, Jim had noticed her getting progressively quieter as the evening wore on. Now she had an odd pinched expression on her face, one that she was almost managing to hide but not quite. Jim watched her say something to her friends, watched the other girls nod and wave and then watched Kate hurry away.

Frowning, Jim abandoned his own chair and headed after her. Later, he would wonder what on Earth had possessed him to do such a thing, but at that moment the thought never crossed his mind. He simply felt that someone ought to check on her and it may as well be him.

Kate wasn't hard to find. Jim wasn't sure if she had gone up on deck or down below to the cabins, but he suspected the former. Sure enough, the moment he stepped out on the aft well deck, Jim spotted her standing at the starboard-side rails. As he approached, Jim could see how hard she was grasping the railing, her head bent and her eyes closed.

"Oi there," Jim said, once he was within hearing distance, "Ye all right?"

Apparently she'd not heard him coming because Kate gasped in surprise and jumped about a foot, cracking one wrist hard against the uppermost railing, "Bleedin' Christ, where the Hell'd you come from?" Kate exclaimed, shaking out her hand with a hiss of pain; "What d'ye mean by sneakin' up on me like that?"

Jim grimaced, "Sorry, I figured ye heard me comin'." He gestured to her newly bruised wrist, "Did ye hit it very hard?"

"Nah, it's fine." Kate replied with the tiniest wince. Finally she seemed to register that it was Jim who had joined her up on deck and she frowned as though confused about how he'd come to be there, "Thought ye were playin' cards with the lads."

Her voice had an odd quality to it, as though she were talking through clenched teeth. Taking a closer look, Jim could see that she didn't look entirely right either; her face was pale with a faint greenish tinge around the edges. Ignoring her comment, Jim said, "Jesus, what's wrong with you then?"

Kate rubbed the bridge her nose and squinted up at him, "Well there's a nice greetin' te give a woman." She said drily.

Refusing to let her sidetrack him, Jim raised one eyebrow and said, "Yer the colour of yer blouse." He tugged gently on one of her white sleeves to illustrate the point, "Ye seasick after all?"

For some reason the question seemed to bother her. Kate turned away from him, leaning heavily on the rails once more, "No I'm not; it isn't that." She said, in that same tight voice.

Jim shrugged, "Homesick then?"

Kate peered up at him sideways for a moment and then seemed to decide that he wasn't going to leave. She sighed, "Not that either." Straightening she tucked a stray curl behind one ear and attempted a weak smile, "Nothin' but a case of too much excitement and rich food I expect."

She was a very good liar, Jim decided. Perhaps the food – which _had_ been a good deal heartier than anything most of their class was used to – did have something to do with why she was up here looking like she was about to be sick, but that wasn't all of it. Jim tried not to show his skepticism, but he could feel his brows knitting in spite of his efforts. This marked the second time that day that he'd been sure she was hiding something, the first having occurred when he'd inquired after her sudden departure from home. Jim wasn't even sure what was giving her away – something in her eyes perhaps – but he felt positive that Kate was not being entirely truthful.

Still, Jim couldn't see the point of pushing the issue, especially when she looked to be about five second from vomiting on his shoes, "Aye, must be that." Lying about the cause or not, the fact was she was still sick and Jim couldn't help but be concerned. "Ye gonna be all right? I'll take ye te find the doctor if ye want,"

"Lord no," Kate said with a little laugh, "I'll be fine. Just need some air and it'll pass." A thought seemed to occur to her and she suddenly looked sly. A slow, crooked smile spread across her face and she asked; "Jim Farrell, did you come up here te check on me?"

Jim made a face, considered denying it completely, and finally settled for saying, "Could be," in as offhand a voice as he could muster. It couldn't be disputed that Jim felt slightly responsible for Kate but he wasn't about to come right out and admit it. Besides, she seemed the type determined to look out for herself and Jim didn't want to insult her pride by saying the wrong thing.

Apparently his response was the correct one because Kate looked happy with the statement and made no move to admonish him. "Well… thank ye." She said and, for a fraction of a second, appeared almost shy. So fast that Jim was sure he'd imagined it, the look was gone, "I don't want te keep ye from yer game though Jim. Ye can go if ye want, I'm all right here by m'self."

"Eh, I wasn't playin' anymore anyway." Jim replied with a one-shouldered shrug, "And Ivan's gonna win; he's the better bluffer. So I s'pose I'll just stay here – if ye have no objection o' course." He added hastily.

"Ye can stay." Kate said, and this time the bashful look was unmistakable, though almost as fleeting as the first had been. For some unknown reason Jim felt stupidly pleased by this reaction. She already seemed better – the green cast to her skin had receded leaving her looking only a few degrees paler than usual – but still she circled her midsection with one arm and said, "Go on and distract me 'til I feel like m'self again."

Jim pondered this request, "I s'pose I can manage that." He decided with a smirk, "What kind o' distraction are ye looking fer?"

Kate mirrored his twist of a smile with one of her own and shifted so that her back was braced against the railings, "Tell me somethin' about yerself. Somethin' I don't know."

"Ye don't actually know anythin' about me." Jim reminded her.

"Oh aye?" Kate replied, with a lift of her brows, "D'ye think that?" Jim opened his mouth to confirm that yes, yes he did think that, only to snap his jaw shut the next instant. Actually, he felt as though he'd known Kate for far longer than he had – a time that, in reality spanned less than twelve hours. Kate nodded, "Exactly," she said, though he had not spoken.

Shaking his head as though to rid it of this mysterious exchange, Jim said, "Well… say what ye will, that's still an awful broad range o' topics. Ye got any particular thing in mind?"

Kate thought through her options and finally said, "Yer fam'ly. Tell me about them."

"I've a lot o' sisters." Jim replied immediately as this was the thing he felt most defined his household, "Five of 'em. I'm an only son."

This drew a surprised laugh from Kate, "And I'm an only daughter." She said, with a smile that crinkled her eyes, "Only I got four brothers, not five. Are ye the oldest as well?"

"No Clara's older." Jim said, "But most times I feel like she's not. I look out fer her as much as I do the younger ones, even though she's married now an' would prob'ly give me a good knock about the head fer sayin' so." Jim shot Kate a conspiratorial half-smile and added, "But that's only because she knows it's true."

Kate laughed again and Jim noticed that the colour was beginning to return to her face. "Yer close then? You an' yer sisters?"

Jim nodded, "Aye. Livin' as we do, poor an' all, ye can't help but be. Ye know how it is."

"Not really." Kate said softly. Jim looked at her curiously but she didn't meet his eyes. Scuffing one boot against the wooden planks of the deck, she explained, "My brothers…well… I expect I embarrass 'em a bit. Because I don't act like a proper girl."

This statement was so absurd that Jim didn't even know how to respond. It was true that Kate was unburdened by the careful reticence that most young women chose to present themselves with, but that hardly marked her as improper. In fact, Jim thought it made her rather more tolerable than the silly, giggly, delicate, swooning types that were a two-a-penny these days. He would have told Kate as much had she not continued speaking.

"I never could figure 'em out; the way they're all so content te stay exactly as they are, never even tryin' te amount te anythin' more." Kate shrugged, "All of 'em, completely happy with bein' nothin's fer the rest o' their days. Even little Michael- eleven years old and blindly followin' exactly the same path as the others with no question at all."

Jim frowned, "Well I s'pose I'm a bit like that." He said, feeling mildly offended that she should think so lowly of people who understood the futility of trying to aspire beyond their means.

Kate looked at him sideways and shook her head, "No Jim, yer not a thing like them."

For reasons that he couldn't rightly explain, Jim felt annoyed by her inability to accept that he didn't see things the way she did, "Forgive me Kate McGowan but despite what ye say ye hardly know me. Stop assumin' that ye understand exactly what's in my head."

"I assume no such thing Jim Farrell." Kate snapped back, pushing her shoulders back indignantly, "But just the fact that yer on this ship at all makes ye worlds diff'rent from my brothers and the fact that yer up here talkin' te me, when ye could be down below with any number of other people proves that even more. Unless ye want te leave now and have nothin' more te do with me in which case go right on an' prove me wrong."

Jim, of course, had no intention of leaving, but he kept silent just long enough to make her wonder if he would. When he saw her haughty expression falter and a shadow of uncertainty pass over her face, Jim dropped the act and said, "Well, ye do know that I wouldn't be on this ship either if I didn't think that goin' te America was the only thing left fer me te do."

Kate, who no longer looked as though she was the least bit concerned that she'd driven him off, said drily, "I'd figured as much, aye." She fussed with the waistband of her skirt, smoothing the material beneath her fingers, "But te the McGowan men leavin' Ireland isn't an option at all. They've always thought I was plumb outta me mind fer wantin' te leave."

"Thought ye said it was sudden, you leavin'?" Jim said, scratching under the brim of his cap.

"I said gettin' this ticket was sudden," Kate corrected him, "But not me wantin' te go. I've been waitin' te make this trip fer as long as I've known that such a thing was possible." She glanced at him thoughtfully, as though searching for some acknowledgement that this dream of hers wasn't completely ridiculous. After a moment she sighed, "But I s'pose ye don't understand that."

But Jim _did_ understand, at least a little. He knew what it was like to want something that badly. The only difference was Kate still believed that it could happen, and Jim…well… he had given up long ago. He smiled - a tiny wistful excuse for a smile - and said, "I guess not."

Kate looked hard at him then, not the curious sidelong glances she'd been shooting him for most of the night. Jim met her stare and though it was not the first time that he'd got the feeling that Kate really _did_ know exactly what was in his head, it was the first time that he thought he might have some idea what was going on in hers. In that odd moment it came to him that perhaps they understood each other better than either of them was willing to admit. Kate tilted her head to one side and a smile ghosted across her face before she broke eye contact, turning to face out to the ocean.

"Ye know, I was actually plannin' te leave next year," She said, as though the conversation had never paused, "Had it all worked out."

Following her lead, Jim crossed his arms over the top of the railings and watched the reflection of the moon dance across the inky waves, "Aye? So how'd ye end up here then?"

Kate shrugged and shifted her weight, the only sign that the question made her uncomfortable, "Nothin' ever goes as planned does it? Things change." She pursed her lips, lost in some private thought, and Jim wondered if she'd ever tell him what it was. "But maybe in the end everythin' turned out te be all right. If I'd've left when I'd planned te, I wouldn't have got tickets fer the _Titanic_. And now I get te travel te America on the most beautiful ship the world's ever seen, and on her maiden voyage no less." She grinned at him, her usual demeanour completely restored, "You an' me Jim, we get te be a little part o' history. Even you've gotta admit that's somethin'"

Jim chuckled and shook his head in resignation, "Aye, I s'pose it is at that."

"Sure 'tis." Kate replied, "So it's not so bad, plans changin'. I get te see this ship after all, plus I'd not've met Mullins or Murphy otherwise. Or you." She added as almost an after thought, though Jim knew perfectly well she'd done it intentionally. Picking absently at her cuticles, Kate continued with a rueful smile, "'Course, you might've preferred that – not havin' me talkin' yer head clean off ev'ry second of the trip."

Jim almost laughed, thinking that she was teasing but stopped short when he caught sight of how determinedly she was examining her hands rather than meet his eyes. "No," He said nonchalantly, as though he hadn't realised that she was serious, "No, I'm glad yer on this trip. Be dull as dirt otherwise."

Kate turned to him in surprise, a smile breaking over her face like the sun coming up. She's lonely, Jim realised suddenly, the thought coming to him clear as crystal; lonely and a little bit scared as well. Jim thought of his own family; they would be sitting around the fire at home right about then and no doubt they'd be speculating on his well-being, hoping that he was managing all right without them. He wondered if any of Kate's brothers were thinking about her, or if he, Jim, was the only other person in the world worrying about this poor brave girl. She must have felt terribly alone.

"Yer a big flatterer Jim Farrell," Kate said, even though she had to know perfectly well by then that Jim wasn't one to say anything without meaning it. She was still smiling. Folding her arms across her chest, Kate shivered a little, "It's gotten a bit chill, hasn't it? I guess it's time I go back below 'fore I catch my death."

"Ye feelin' better then?" Jim asked. He had all but forgotten the initial reason he'd gone looking for her.

Kate nodded emphatically, "Oh aye, I'm right as rain now, thank ye." She grinned at him, then seemed to realise that she was supposed to be leaving, "Well, I'm off." She hesitated, "Ye comin'?"

Jim smiled and almost said yes, but at the last second changed his mind, "I think I'm gonna stay up an' have a smoke 'fore I turn in."

Wrinkling her nose a little at the mention of the cigarette, Kate said, "All right, then I s'pose I won't see ye 'til tomorrow. G'night Jim."

"G'night." Jim watched her go, disappearing into the warmth of the ship. Once she was completely out of sight, he pulled a snuff box from an interior pocket of his coat, rolled himself a cigarette and turned back to watching the water roll by.

Yellow light from the Titanic's many portholes and white light from the moon and stars stitched themselves through the black quilt of the ocean; silver, gold and pitch. Jim thought about what Kate had said, about being a small part of history. He shook his head; on a night like this, he could almost – almost but not quite – buy into her fanciful talk, her big dreams. Life, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise him, and that, perhaps, was the biggest surprise of all.

Jim blew a wreath of smoke out into the night and watched the wind catch hold and blow it out to sea. "We'll see, won't we?" He said out loud, not even entirely sure what he meant by it, "We'll just wait and see."


	8. The Weaknesses We Have Missed

**A/N** - Look a chapter!!!!! I'm sure that there will be great amounts of rejoicing in the land. Well, herein, plot happens. Not that plot hasn't been happening before, but it's been sort of introductory plot. Eh, you'll figure it out.

That's the good news. the bad news is that I've had this heinous sinus infection/cold-type-thing that renedered me almost incapable of focusing on...well... pretty much anything, but especially writing of any form. So even though I finished this chapter last week before I got sick, I haven't made any head-way on the next chapter, so it might be a little longer in coming. Which annoys the heck out of me, but y'know. Such is life.

Thanks to everyone still reading, but especially **LazyChestnut** because she is awesome and gives me feedback :) Enjoy the chapter everybody!

* * *

Kate's first night sleeping aboard the _Titanic_ was an enormous success. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, lulled by the steady hum of the ship's engines. Some people might have complained about the constant noise from the machinery, but Kate found the sounds immensely soothing, nothing but a pleasant reminder of where she was and where she was going. Her sleep was deep and her dreams untroubled. Waking the next morning, Kate felt more rested that she could remember being in the past few months or longer.

Petra and Mathilde were already awake. Mathilde was still pulling on her dress, looking a little bleary from sleep, but Petra was fully clothed and appeared bright eyed and cheerful. She was busy pinning up her long blond braids into a kind of coronet around her head. "Guten morgen Kate!" She said when she realised that Kate was awake as well.

Yesterday Petra had taught Kate a few common phrases in German and Kate had returned the favour by teaching Petra the English translations. Kate yawned and stretched, flashing the German girl a grin, "Good mornin' te you too Petra." She replied brightly, "Mathilde." The younger sister looked up from the buttons on her dress, smiled sleepily and waved.

Kate climbed down from her bunk and rummaged in her suitcase for her clothes. She had two skirts and three blouses, all but one of these pieces in varying degrees of wear and tear. Only the third blouse was brand new and had come from Kate's mother, an early birthday present she'd called it, though Kate knew that it was really a farewell gift. Kate had worn the middle-aged blouse and newer skirt yesterday, figuring that Sailing Day was worth looking one's best, and today she opted for the more worn outfit even though the frayed cuffs on her sleeves made her wrists itch. Kate planned to save her mother's present for the day she arrived in New York. New clothes for her new life.

Before getting dressed Kate wrapped herself in her threadbare dressing gown – a hand-me-down from one of her cousins - and made a trip to the privy where she was able to wash her face and neck while staying out of her roommates' way. By the time she returned to the cabin, Petra and Mathilde were gone, presumably on their way to breakfast.

Kate got dressed and brushed her hair – which was a veritable bird's nest that morning – then attempted to work it into some style that didn't make her look like a common prostitute. Lacking money to buy proper pins and having hair with a mind of its own made this more of a challenge than it should have been. Eventually, Kate settled for scraping as much of it back from her face as possible and securing it with a pair of battered wooden combs. The result was passably decent, though far from the neat up-does of braids and buns that most women her age favoured. Still, at least she wasn't likely to be mistaken for a whore, which was comforting.

Giving herself one last once over – checking to see that her blouse was tucked in and that her stockings were straight and not bagging around the ankles as old stockings, which these most certainly were, tended to do – Kate deemed her appearance presentable. She stepped out into the corridor at precisely the same moment as Kate Mullins.

"Mornin' Kate," Mullins said cheerfully. She too looked well-rested and chipper, as though she was as eager to start the day as Kate was.

"Mornin' Kate," Kate returned with grin. Mullins laughed, and Kate wondered if that particular coincidence was ever going to stop being amusing.

As if to say that, no, no it wasn't Kate Murphy chose that moment to emerge from her cabin. Kate exchanged a look with Mullins and then they both chorused, in voices much louder than was strictly necessary; "Mornin' Kate!" - and promptly dissolved into laughter.

Murphy looked between her two companions with an expression caught between amusement and alarm, "Have ye both gone daft then?"

"Ah no, not yet," Kate replied, still grinning. She surveyed the other girl for a moment. Murphy, unlike Kate, had managed to tame her dark hair into a neat, sleek bun at the base of her skull, with nary a stray wisp to be seen. Kate touched her own curls self-consciously and fought down a pang of envy. "S'pose we should head te the saloon, yeah?"

Kate looped arms with Mullins, then Murphy and, thus arranged, the trio proceeded to the dining hall. They were much surer of the route already, though at one point they took a wrong turn and ended up in a hallway ending with a latrine instead of the saloon. Retracing their steps, they soon corrected this error and made the rest of the trip without incident.

The three women took seats in their designated area. Though they were a little late arriving, thanks to their impromptu detour, the food had not yet been set out. Kate sat across the table from Mullins and Murphy, which was how she preferred it; she liked being able to see both of her friends at once when she spoke. No to mention, it left a free seat on her right-hand side, just in case someone decided that he wanted to join them.

"D'ye know," Mullins was saying, "This isn't at all how I figured steerage'd be. I thought it'd be more like the mess halls at the scullery, not near so clean and fancy-like," She held up her starched white napkin to illustrate, flapping it around like a personal flag, "It makes me feel like a real person!"

"Ye are a real person Kate Mullins, fancy cloth or no," Kate said, though she understood perfectly what the other girl meant.

Mullins didn't even seem to register what Kate had said and continued exclaiming, "And the food is better'n anythin' I've ever had, don't ye think?"

"Aye, it's very good," Kate replied distractedly. A few late comers were still trickling into the saloon, and each time someone new appeared, Kate's eyes snapped up to see who it was.

A small, amused sound brought Kate's attention back to the table. Kate Murphy, who had a black, leather-bound book propped on the table in front of her, glanced up at Kate and jerked her head to one side, "He's over there." She said, turning the page of her book.

Kate gave her a blank look, "Sorry?"

Without raising her eyes from her reading, Murphy said, "Jim – he's two tables te the left, sitting with Roger and that fella from the card game." She paused and arched one eyebrow, "That _was_ who ye were lookin' fer, wasn't it?"

Going crimson from neck to hairline, Kate stammered, "That is not…no…I…I was lookin' fer Petra _actually_." Still, she couldn't help but sneak a glance at the table Murphy had indicated. Sure enough, Jim was there, chatting amiably with the other men and apparently oblivious to her presence in the saloon. Kate frowned, disappointed.

Seeing this, Murphy smirked, "Oh aye, Petra is it?"

Kate was saved from having to respond to this by the arrival of breakfast. It was mouth watering fare – porridge and milk, smoked herring with jacket potatoes, eggs, bread with butter and marmalade, even pots of fresh coffee and tea. Kate shook her head at the sheer excess of everything; it was more food than her family would be able to afford in a whole week, let alone for one meal.

With the meal now before her, Murphy marked a place in her book with a very faded piece of blue ribbon and placed the volume on the table beside her. Glancing at it, Kate was surprised to discover that it was not a novel or volume of poetry as she had assumed, but a very well-worn copy of the Bible. Following Kate's gaze, Murphy explained, "I usually read a verse or two 'fore I go te bed, but I was so tired yesterday I didn't. Thought I'd make up fer it now."

Kate nodded. Talk of religion tended to make her uncomfortable, not because she didn't believe in God – she did – but because her faith was something preferred to keep private. She'd been made to feel judged and inferior too many times in her life to feel entirely comfortable discussing her beliefs.

Fortunately, the topic didn't seem to on the table – so to speak – that morning. Kate Mullins, who was spreading liberal amounts of marmalade onto her toast, decided to ignore the exchange regarding Murphy's Bible entirely and said, "Ye gonna go ask Jim te sit with us then?"

"What?" Kate exclaimed, "Good God, are ye still on about that?"

"_She_ was talkin' about it before, not me," Mullins reminded her, indicating Kate Murphy. She looked at Kate expectantly, "Well, are ye?"

"I…no, I'm not," Kate said firmly.

Mullins looked crestfallen, "Nooo? Why not Kate?" She whined, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout, "Ye should. I'll bet he'd like fer ye te ask."

Kate was so flustered that she almost upended her tea cup, "Don't be ridiculous," She sputtered, "Jim Farrell can make up his own mind 'bout where he wants te sit. If he wanted te sit here he would, far be it from me te pull him away from his mates."

"Yer face is the colour of yer hair." Mullins commented. Beside her, Murphy choked violently on a mouthful of porridge and began to cough and laugh simultaneously. Kate looked thoroughly unimpressed with the pair of them.

Not to be sidetracked, Mullins continued, "Don't see why ye wouldn't want te ask." A thought seemed to suddenly occur to her and she gasped, "D'ye have a beau back home Kate?"

Murphy, her eyes watering, took a sip of water and cleared her throat vigorously before saying, "With the way she's been carryin' on with Jim? I'd guess not."

"I have not been carryin' on!" Kate protested.

Ignoring her Mullins said reasonably, "Well she might've had one and've been forced te end things on account of her leavin'."

Kate attacked her herring with far more force than was needed and avoided making any reaction whatsoever. The conversation was quickly veering into a territory that Kate didn't like and she sought around for some way to change its course. However, once Kate Mullins got an idea into her head, it seemed to be a near impossible task to divert her.

"I had a beau – Henry." Mullins got a little misty-eyed here, and stared off into space for a moment before explaining, "Well, not really. We never got te bein' a real couple, on account of us both knowin' that I was gonna be goin' away and figurin' it'd be easier if we stayed just friends. He might be makin' the crossin' next summer though, so then we could be t'gether."

"Er… that'd be nice," Kate said, not sure what to make of this impromptu confessional, but hoping that it had distracted Mullins from questioning Kate about her own past romances.

No such luck. "Didn't ye ever have a special lad back home Kate?" Mullins persisted in asking. Kate pressed her lips together and didn't answer, which was apparently enough to make Mullins bounce up and down in her chair and squeal, "Oooh, ye did!"

Kate couldn't help but feel annoyed, "So what if I did; what's it to ye?"

Mullins blanched a little, "I dunno." She said in a small voice. Twisting her napkin in her hands, she added "Yer my friend now. I thought ye might like te talk about…things…like that."

Immediately Kate felt terrible for having snapped at the other girl. She felt as though she'd known Mullins and Murphy so long already that it was easy to forget that they were just lonely girls like her, trying to find people that fit in these new lives they were creating for themselves. Mullins didn't mean anything by her questions; she just wanted someone to talk to.

So even though she didn't want to, would have given her right hand to thrust the memory away and never let it cross her mind again, in fact, Kate said, "Aye, there was a man. But I don't like te talk about it."

"Oh." Mullins said, realisation dawning, her blue eyes growing very wide, "Oh, I'm sorry Kate, I didn't know. Ye don't have te tell me about it, I won't ever ask again."

Kate looked at Mullins then at Murphy – who was pretending not to be interested in the conversation even though she clearly was – and realised, quite suddenly, that she did want to tell them, even just a little, even if it was just so there was someone else in the world that had some idea what had happened.

"I wish…" Kate began slowly, not sure how to put her feelings into words, "I wish it'd never happened. Or that I could forget about it. But I can't."

Mullins seemed to ponder this idea. With her cheery disposition, Kate found it hard to believe that her friend had ever truly known heartbreak, or what it was to want to cut something out of your life that way. Eventually Mullins asked, "Did ye love him then? This man o' yers?"

Kate shrugged, "I thought I did. Thought he loved me too come te that." She smiled ruefully, "Turns out I was wrong on both counts. I was a silly girl flattered by the attention, caught up in his pretty words, an' too stupid te realise that he was playin' me the whole time, that he was just a liar out fer a bit o' fun."

"I'm never gonna let that happen te me," Kate Murphy said grimly, "The only man who'll court me will be the man I marry."

"Well, isn't that what we all say?" Kate replied with a humourless laugh, "Everythin' would be lovely if we could jus' get it right on the first go. But most times ye don't see it comin'. Ye think everythin' is just perfect an' the next ye know it feels like the whole world's come tumblin' down."

Mullins made a sympathetic sound, "Oh Kate, was it that bad?"

Murphy snorted, "Obviously." She said, "Look at her face."

Kate didn't actually know what her face looked like, but she assumed it wasn't precisely the countenance of a person filled with joy. It never was, when she thought about this. "Aye, it was that bad." Maybe worse, Kate added silently. She looked across the table at her two new friends, at Mullins, who was such an innocent soul that she looked about to cry at the mere thought of Kate in pain, and at Murphy who was the most conservative of the three, careful and cautious, not headstrong like Kate McGowan or high strung like Kate Mullins. What would you think of me; Kate wondered, what would you think if you knew the whole story?

"Well," Kate Murphy said finally, "Sure an' I don't see that we gotta dredge up yer whole tragic romantic past 'fore we're even through with breakfast. S'pose we let it alone fer now?"

"That'd do fine fer me." Kate intoned, throwing her friend a grateful look. Murphy acknowledged this with a small smile and a bob of her head.

Though clearly disappointed that she wasn't about to get the full tale of woe, Mullin nodded, "Aye. We can talk about somethin' else." She beamed, "After all, there's plenty we still don't know 'bout each other!"

Plenty, Kate agreed silently, smothering a grimace in her tea cup. She knew that she would be lucky to make it through to that evening without the topic coming up again, let alone a whole five days at sea. Kate chewed her lower lip and only half listened to Mullins who was already rambling on about where she'd grown up, all in all a much safer topic. If she intended to remain friends with Mullins and Murphy – and Kate sincerely hoped to – there were certain things that the girls were going to need to know. Kate just had no idea how she was going to tell them.

"Kate?" Mullins voice cut through Kate's thoughts. The other woman was giving her a quizzical look, "What're ye thinkin' about?"

"Me? Nothin'." Kate replied, keeping her face utterly neutral. She smiled blandly, "Nothin' at all."


	9. Quite Alone

**A/N:** Woot! Update! And hey it's only a day later than normal, so that's not too shabby :) Herein, Kate broods and acts surly and mysterious whilst angsting a wee bit. Jim, on the other hand behaves in a suitably adorable fashion, lol. Actually, this chapter sort of took on a life of its own in that what I intended to happen when I started this section got tossed completely to the sidelines and probably won't show up now for a good chapter or two. Freaking fictional characters running amok on me. I hate when that happens! Well, actually no I don't because the story will end up being much better for it I think (hope).

In other news, this story has now officially become the longest thing I've ever written. Actually, I think it hit that mark somewhere in chapter eight, but I've only just noticed it so I'll announce it here. Yay!

In even more news I must thank **LazyChestnut**, **sabresrthebest** and **PrettyLadyPansy** for their reviews. There was much squeeage to be heard upon receiving :D

* * *

In the Third Class General Room, Kate sat curled on her bench with one leg tucked up underneath her skirt, and the other swinging a restless pattern in the air an inch or so from the floor. She had one elbow resting on the back of the bench and she'd propped her head up on her fist, all the while hoping that she appeared at least slightly attentive to what was going on around her.

Kate Mullins, who was busy knitting a pair of heavy stockings in coarse wool the precise colour of burned bread, rolled her shoulders to relax her muscles, "It's nice bein' able te knit at me own pace, 'stead of havin' me Mam hoverin' around tellin' me te go faster."

"I'm sure," Kate replied absently. She knew, from Mullins' near-constant chatter since breakfast, that her friend's mother was a seamstress and that Mullins and her two younger sisters were all learning the trade themselves. Kate envied Mullins her knitting – she'd not thought to bring along a project of that sort, though sewing had always been a favourite hobby of hers. The steady click-clack of Mullins' needles made Kate's fingers itch.

"The girls'd have a clean fit if they knew how much free time we was gettin'." Mullins continued, "They'll never believe me when I write te tell 'em. They'll think I'm makin' fun."

Murphy plunked down on the bench beside Kate just in time to hear this comment. She had been off helping Margaret Rice with her brood of five feisty young boys. Kate thought Margaret- who she had met yesterday- awfully brave to be attempting to make the crossing with all of her children in tow and no one to help. Kate Murphy had apparently been thinking much the same thing because she had offered to watch the four older boys while Margaret attempted to get food into the baby, a wee lad of two. Murphy, it turned out, liked children and she was very good with them. Kate liked children too, but parents tended to be wary of letting their youngsters spend much time with her. She supposed they believed she'd influence them poorly, and the thought made Kate a little sad.

To Mullins, Murphy raised both eyebrows and said with genuine curiosity, "An' what did they s'pose ye'd be doin' onboard then? Swabbin' the decks?"

"Well…" Mullins said slowly, dropping her knitting into her lap and scrunching up her face in thought, "D'ye know, I'm not rightly sure?" She giggled, "Maybe they thought they'd make us row."

Murphy burst out laughing, "_That's_ what ye should tell 'em in yer letter," She said, "That the Captain made us poor Steerage folks row the boat all the way te America. See what they say."

"I can't do that!" Mullins exclaimed, still giggling furiously, "They'd believe me."

Though she would have normally found this banter extremely funny, Kate managed no more than a distracted half-smile. A single curl had come loose of its comb and was now drooping across Kate's forehead. She toyed with it, pulling the coil of hair straight and then letting it bounce back over and over again. Eventually this odd behaviour drew the attention of her two friends, who exchanged looks of puzzled amusement.

"What's the matter with you then?" Kate Murphy said, after a moment of watching Kate play with her hair.

Kate blinked and dropped her hand back into her lap, letting the wayward curl bounce into her eyes, "Nothin'." She said quickly, sitting up straighter and trying to look more attentive. "How'd ye get te be so good with the young 'uns Kate Murphy?"

If Murphy noticed how forced the topic change was, she had the tact not to say anything. Instead she shrugged one shoulder and said, "I got seven younger siblings. Don't s'pose I could help it, could I?"

"I got younger brothers too y'know," Kate reminded her, "But I don't know the first thing 'bout lookin' after children. Not really."

"Aye, but mine are all younger then yers," Murphy said, meaning her brothers and sisters, "Next oldest in me fam'ly is Mae, an' she's only fourteen. Then Charlie's twelve an' so on an' so on from there. Then ye take into account all my cousins, an' I've been helpin' te raise babes since I was but ten years old."

Kate considered this. The oldest of her four brothers, William, was seventeen. She'd been eight when Michael, the youngest was born which was old enough to help with small things, but not quite old enough to be entrusted with full care of an infant. She might have been able to help with some of her cousins, but her uncles and aunts, like most adults, had never seemed particularly eager to have young Kate aiding the upbringing of their children. "I s'pose ye've got a point." Kate finally conceded.

Murphy gave Kate a long searching look, "Why d'ye ask? Ye got a job in America workin' with children maybe?"

"No, no, nothin' like that." Kate said, trying not to squirm under the weight of Murphy's gaze, "I was just curious is all." Sensing that the other woman needed something more in the way of explanation, Kate added, "I was thinkin' ye'd make a good Mother. Me, I'm likely te be right dreadful."

"Ah well, no doubt ev'ry women thinks that sometimes," Murphy said wisely, patting Kate's knee in a consoling fashion, "I'm sure ye'll be fine when yer time comes."

"Sure she will!" Mullins piped up enthusiastically. "'Sides, it's not like ye've gotta worry 'bout that any time soon, is it?"

Kate laughed in a way that she hoped sounded at least marginally natural and said, "Of course. Yer right. Pay me no mind – I just get these notions in me head sometimes."

They lapsed into a silence that was comfortable for Mullins and Murphy, but felt strained to Kate. The rhythmic click of Mullins' knitting needles resumed. Kate jiggled her foot in time with the noise and shifted restlessly on the bench. All at once, she felt that she couldn't sit still for another instant and half jumped to her feet, startling her companions.

The clacking of the needles ceased, "Kate?" Mullins said, looking up at her in surprise; "What're ye doin'?"

"I'm goin' fer a walk," Kate said, deciding on the spot that she needed to get out of the smoky inner room and up where she could get some air, "The noise in here's givin' me a headache." That part wasn't true in the slightest, but Kate thought it might keep the girls from questioning her sudden departure. "D'ye want te come?"

"I'll stay if ye don't mind," Mullins said with a cheery smile, "I want te see if I can get this done 'fore lunch bell rings." She held up her half-finished stocking.

Murphy nodded in agreement, "Aye, think I'll stay behind as well." She arched one eyebrow at Kate, "Ye can get over yer…headache…in peace then."

Kate pressed her lips into a thin line. Murphy was a lot sharper than Kate gave her credit for. "All right then. I'll see ye in a wee bit."

First, Kate returned to her cabin for her coat and hat. She intended to go up on deck, but she thought maybe she'd try and get to the forward Well Deck, via the route Jim had told her about the day before. The problem with most of the third class deck space was that it was at the stern where a person had to always see where they'd come from instead of where they were going. Kate had a need to see where she was going just then.

Following the signs, Kate made her way up one level to E-Deck and then started out up the long corridor Jim had described. Kate wondered if it really ran from one end of the ship to the other. If it didn't and she ended up getting lost for three hours in the depths of the _Titanic_, Jim Farrell was going to have some explaining to do.

Kate travelled at a leisurely pace, admiring again the beauty and grandeur of the ship. She wondered what life was like in the first class decks. Kate couldn't imagine any luxury finer than these clean white walls and the electrical lights in their shining brass fixtures. She supposed the rich folks had cabins draped in velvet and slept every night on silk sheets. Kate had felt silk once in the lining of a fancy coat belonging to a rich lady who had stopped for a night at the inn where Kate worked. Sleeping on material like that would be like sleeping on woven water, or cream. Kate shivered pleasantly at the thought and wondered if the first class passengers had even the slightest inkling of how lucky they were. Likely not. No one ever did.

Though she'd been temporarily buoyed by her fanciful musings on the life of first class, Kate felt her earlier dark mood creep back at this thought. She sighed and stopped walking, running the back of one hand across her eyes. She wished she was one of those fancy girls who'd never had to worry a day in their lives, who could get into all manner of trouble and always have the means to buy their way back to safety. Kate felt certain that not a one of the ladies in first class knew what it was like to be afraid, really and truly terrified and not be able to show it because letting it show would mean telling someone what was wrong.

"Stop that," Kate said out loud to the mercifully empty corridor, "Stop that right now Kate McGowan." She told herself that she was strong and that she was going to be fine, no matter how much it seemed impossible sometimes. Thinking otherwise would not help her in anyway.

Thus steeled, Kate resumed walking, though her hands remained fisted at her sides giving her strides an almost militant look. She half marched the remaining length of hallway then came to a halt. She'd hit a staircase, and though the corridor kept going past that Kate felt that surely she'd walked far enough by now.

Frowning, Kate scanned the area for something to indicate that this was the staircase that would eventually lead up to the deck. She was sure there had to be some sign, but could not immediately spot it. Hands on her hips, Kate contemplated the steps, wondering if she should just try climbing them and see where she ended up.

"Are ye gonna go up the stairs then, or are ye just gonna stand here scowlin' at 'em?"

Kate shrieked and whirled around, "Jim Farrell!" She said, dealing him a solid back-handed slap across the shoulder that was hard enough to make him yelp, "Bleedin' Hell, how many years' growth are ye plannin' on scarin' me outta?"

Jim, rubbing his shoulder, gave her a highly disgruntled look, "Well hello te you too then."

"What d'ye do, stand in the shadows an' wait fer me te walk by?" Kate demanded, pressing the heel of her hand over her pounding heart.

"Well Christ, how'm I s'posed te know if ye hear me comin' or not?" Jim shot back, looking suspiciously as though he was trying not to laugh, "It's not my fault yer such a jumpy wee thing."

Kate glared at him for a moment, then spun on her heel and started up the stairs, not bothering to ask if she was going the right way. She practically heard Jim hesitate before deciding to follow her. When he caught up, Kate glared even harder, "Why is it ev'ry time I turn around yer there Jim Farrell?" She snapped.

Jim made an incredulous noise in the back of his throat, "Could ask ye the same thing couldn't I? I didn't _plan_ te come up from my cabin and find ye hoverin' by the stairs like a damn storm cloud ye know."

Refusing to answer, Kate picked up her pace, each foot fall pounding the steps as though they were to blame for her foul mood. She was being unfair to Jim and she knew it, especially since she actually did enjoy his company. In fact, deep down she suspected that she was glad to see him and somehow that only made things worse. When she'd first spoken to Jim, Kate had never expected that they'd hit it off as well as they had. The last thing Kate needed was to find that she was starting to care about some damn _man_.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Kate realised that Jim had fallen behind. By the time she hit the top of the staircase, he was still three or four steps below her. Kate stopped and looked back at him questioningly, hands fisted on her hips. Jim stopped his ascent and frowned up at her.

"Well, d'ye want me te leave or not?" Jim said finally, crossing his arms and sounding thoroughly irritated.

Kate twisted her mouth to one side, "Why would I want ye te leave?"

Jim looked at her as though she'd gone completely out of her head, "Because I've met mad dogs more friendly then you are t'day, that's why."

"Oh." Kate deflated a little and let her arms fall limply to her sides. For a moment they stared at each other, Jim raised one eyebrow. Kate sighed, "Well, I thought ye'd know I didn't mind ye bein' here."

"And how in Hell am I s'posed te know that then?" Jim asked, "I can't read yer bloody mind ye damn crazy woman."

For half a second Kate felt the urge to burst out laughing. Instead she scowled half-heartedly and stuck out her chin, "I'll tell ye plain then," She said, "Ye can come with me if ye like." Kate turned and started away from him, then paused and added, "But I warn ye, I'm not in the best o' tempers."

"Ye don't say." Jim drawled sarcastically, not moving from his spot on the steps.

Realising that he'd made no move to follow her, Kate stopped walking. She sighed and looked at her boots rather then back over her shoulder where she was positive she'd find Jim staring at her disapprovingly. "Jim." Kate said softly, "Come with me. Please?"

The silence that followed stretched so long that Kate was sure that Jim had left, but she was afraid to look and confirm. She started to tell herself that it would be better if he went away because then it would be easier to pretend that she didn't want him to like her. Just as Kate was beginning to convince herself that this was true, there was the sound of footfalls on the stairs and Jim finally came up to meet her.

"All right," Jim said, drawing up even with Kate's right shoulder, "But only because ye said please."

And even though she was determined not to care, Kate couldn't help but smile.

.


	10. Take Your Flight

**A/N -** This chapter manages to be simultaneously fluffy and angsty and though I'm not sure how that happened exactly, I kind of like it, lol. I have to officially say though these kids - and by that I mean Kate and Jim - have complete developed minds of their own and have pretty well stopped doing anything I expect them to do. Which is amusing, but also means that my chapters keep multiplying O_o. Ah well, it keeps me on my toes anyhow.

As always, many thanks to** LC** and **-NamelessForNow-** for their kind reviews. You guys are made of win! Enjoy the chapter everyone!

* * *

It was another beautiful day at sea. Kate felt her mood lift almost the moment she stepped out into the sunlight and felt the breeze catch in her clothes and hair. Jim, following closely behind her, had kept wisely silent for the rest of the walk up to the Well Deck. Kate didn't mind the lack of conversation, but she wished he'd stop giving her those little darting looks as though afraid that one false move would trigger her temper again.

"Jim Farrell," Kate said finally when she caught him at it for the hundredth time, "Will ye stop that?"

Jim looked over his shoulder as if hunting for a clue as to what she was talking about, "Stop what?"

"Lookin' at me like I'm a bomb 'bout te go off," Kate replied. She crossed her arms and gazed at him sternly, "I'm a girl, not stick o' dynamite."

"Could've fooled me," Jim said drily.

Kate glared up at him for a moment, then said, "Oh bugger off," and headed off to investigate the deck. Jim, detecting no vitriol in these words, chuckled and went after her. As it turned out, the forward Well Deck was pretty well interchangeable with the aft Well Deck in terms of size and shape. The main difference was the fact that Kate could see right out the front of the ship here and that sight made her glad.

Because she wanted to sit so that she was facing in the direction they were headed, Kate climbed half way up a staircase that lead up to what she presumed were the second class decks, and plunked herself on one of the top most stairs. There was a chained blockade at the top of the steps preventing steerage passengers from entering the higher class deck space. Of course, Kate thought sardonically, they wouldn't want us wandering around ruining the view.

A small noise like the clearing of a throat caught Kate's attention. Jim was still standing at the bottom of the staircase looking up at her, as though he wasn't sure what the protocol was for this situation and thus had decided to wait for her to tell him he could join her.

Kate smirked, amused and almost flattered by his deference to propriety, "Ye can come up here an' sit down ye know."

Jim returned the smirk and started up the stairs, "Well I wasn't sure. I don't know if yer aware, but yer not the easiest woman in the world te predict."

Rolling her eyes, Kate said, "Be that as it may, I surely don't expect ye te stand down there starin' at me."

"Aye, and I thank ye fer that," Jim replied settling down beside her.

The staircase, it turned out, was not particularly wide. There was enough room for two people to climb side by side, but just barely. This became immediately apparent when Jim took his seat and the pair suddenly found themselves in very close quarters, close enough that their shoulders were pressed together, close enough that if they turned to look at each other simultaneously there was hardly a foot of space between the tips of their noses. Of course, the first thing Kate did when she realised this was turn to look at him, and of course Jim did the same so that they discovered very quickly how little room they had.

It shouldn't have mattered in the slightest, but it did. There was a ridiculous stretch of dead quiet in which they both stared wide-eyed at one another. _His eyes have flecks of grey in them_, Kate thought completely out of nowhere and the fact that she had noticed this cause a wave of heat to rush from her neck to the top of her head. The knowledge that she had likely just turned magenta effectively broke Kate out of her stupor. She dropped her gaze to her lap and scooted as far away from Jim as she could, which in all truth was not very far at all.

Neither of them seemed to have recovered working use of their vocal chords, so for another torturous minute they said nothing. Finally Kate made a desperate stab at speech blurting, "It's nice weather we been havin' isn't it?" and then immediately wanting to slap herself for saying something so asinine.

Fortunately, Jim didn't seem to care that the conversation was idiotic, only that there was conversation at all. He nodded, making a pointed effort to avoid looking at her. Kate could have sworn that he was suppressing a smile and she had to restrain herself from boxing his ears. "Aye; it stays clear like this, we're likely te have the smoothest crossin' ever recorded. There's hardly any wind even."

"It barely feels like we're on water right now." Kate commented, still perched rather rigidly on her end of the step, "If the seas were rougher would it make a diff'rence ye think?"

"Oh sure t'would," Jim replied matter-of-factly, "The swells're small now, but we'd feel it if they got much bigger."

Kate glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, "Ye say that like ye know fer sure."

Jim shrugged, "That's because I do know, don't I?" he said, "Worked fishin' boats nearly ten years now, been out on open water loads o' times."

Surprised by this tidbit of knowledge, Kate forgot her discomfort entirely and rotated to face him, not even noticing when they knocked knees, "Really? I didn't know that."

"'Course not – I never told ye," Jim said with a crooked smile, "Now, it's diff'rent maybe, bein' on a big ship like this; I expect ye don't feel the waves so much. Still an' all, I don't s'pose we'd much enjoy havin' te sail through a bad storm, fancy big boat or no."

"Ah no, I'd think not." Kate agreed, shuddering at the thought of being tossed around at the mercy of the sea. She'd heard tales of ships capsizing under the strain of a ferocious gale, their hulls dashed to pieces by the crash of the waves. But then, the _Titanic_ was said to be unsinkable, so she likely didn't have to worry, even if there was a storm. Looking at Jim with fresh curiosity, Kate said, "Have ye sailed much in bad weather then?"

Jim nodded, "Aye, a fair amount."

Kate frowned, thinking this over. A few of her closest neighbours back in Ireland had had husbands who were fishermen and she remembered how they would stand at the windows during storms, anxious pale faces fixed on the dark skies as though willing the violent weather to blow over. Kate's mother had once said that she was glad her husband worked inland; she couldn't have stood the waiting, the not knowing. "It's dangerous work isn't it?" Kate said slowly, "Fishin' I mean."

"It can be," Jim told her sounding as though it wasn't a matter he'd given much thought, "I can think of a fair few storms where the winds were so strong, they were sendin' waves washin' clear over the deck of the boat. It's like the whole sea's tryin' te swallow ye whole, ye can't help but think yer a goner fer sure when it's like that."

The image of Jim swept out into an unforgiving black ocean never to be found made Kate's mouth go dry. She licked her lips nervously, "Why'd ye do it then?"

Jim looked at her as though she'd started speaking in tongues, "Listen te her!" He exclaimed, raising his eyes to the sky. To Kate he said, "What d'ye mean 'why'? It's work isn't it?"

"But there's other work Jim!" Kate said, her voice rising in pitch, "Work as doesn't mean takin' yer life into yer hands ev'ry day."

"Christ, what're ye getting' so worked up about?" Jim demanded, bafflement plain on his face, "The way ye sound ye'd think it was _you_ I had te leave behind ev'ry time I went out on the water."

Kate opened her mouth to make a retort, then closed it again. Why _was_ she getting so worked up? "Well, yer sisters…"

"Didn't know anythin' diff'rent." Jim finished for her. "My father was a fisherman, so I was one too, simple as that."

There was no arguing in the face of this logic. Kate folded her arms across the tops of her knees and stared out at the calm blue ocean stretching for miles out the front of the ship. She hated it, the way people like her and Jim got trapped in a line of work simply because they didn't dare hold out for something better. She was determined that it would change now, that it wouldn't be that way for her anymore.

Out loud she said, "Well, at least ye managed te not die."

Jim huffed a little laugh and replied, "Aye, well I'm grateful fer that too."

They fell silent again, but this time there was none of the previous tension. Kate rested her chin on her arms and sighed, drawing a sidelong glance from Jim. After a moment he said, "So, are ye gonna tell me then?"

Kate twitched one eyebrow, "Tell ye what?"

"What ever it was had ye in such foul spirits earlier."

Kate sat up straight and looked at him, her lips compressed into such a thin line that they practically disappeared. Jim was perceptive enough to notice the change in her demeanour because he shifted backwards slightly.

"I don't see how it's any of yer business Jim Farrell." Kate snapped, the muscles in her jaw tightening.

Jim raised both hands defensively, "All right, all right. Jesus, I'm sorry I asked." He rumpled his hair under his cap, then tugged the brim of the hat back down, "Just thought ye might want te talk about it."

Feeling guilty for her tone, but not so guilty that she could stop herself from scowling into her lap, Kate said, "Well I don't." She picked at the buttons of her coat and brooded quietly for a minute. "I don't see how talkin' would make it any better. Only makes it worse so far as I can tell. 'Twas talkin' as put me in a bad mood in the first place wasn't it? Bad mem'ries ought be left in the past where they belong 'stead of makin' a body dredge 'em up ev'ry minute. Because thinkin' about it always upsets me an' I know that, so I don't know why I can't just stop thinkin' about it and let m'self move on!" Kate looked at Jim, "What's done is done right?"

There was a beat and then Jim said, "I thought we weren't talkin' 'bout it?"

"We aren't!" Kate spat.

"Oh aye? Aren't we?" Jim deadpanned back at her.

Kate made a noise like an angry cat and leaped to her feet, "No, we are _not_." She stomped down the stairs and half way across the deck before whirling around and stomping all the way back to say, "You are positively infuriatin' Jim Farrell!"

Jim laughed in disbelief, "Me?" He said sounding utterly nonplussed, "I'm just sittin' here!"

"And bein' infuriatin'!" Kate proclaimed. She glared at him but got no response a fact that only made her angrier "God!"

Looking thoroughly amused now, Jim leaned back and propped his elbows on the step above the one he was seated on, "Good Christ," he commented to no one in particular, "She's gone completely out of her head."

Kate narrowed her eyes and glowered with all of her might for precisely five seconds before bursting into tears.

It was hard to say who was more surprised by this turn of events – Jim, who bolted upright and looked terrified, or Kate who clapped both hands over her face and, mortified, made a run for the staircase that led below decks. Despite her head start, Jim moved faster and before Kate could disappear down the stairs, he'd caught her by the upper arm.

"Hey now," Jim said, clearly alarmed by her behaviour, "Wait a minute."

Kate tried to pull free but Jim tightened his grip and pulled her back out into the open. Kate struggled half-heartedly and finally snapped, "Jim, let me _go_!"

He immediately relinquished his hold, "All right," he said taking a step back, "I'm sorry." He looked at her, face creased with concern, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Jesus God Kate, I didn't mean te… ye know I didn't mean anythin'…"

"I know," Kate waved him silent. She wasn't even crying anymore; other then some residual wetness on her cheeks, nothing appeared amiss. Whatever crack had appeared in her defences, she'd walled it back up even tighter than before. "It's not you."

Jim looked vaguely relieved, "Yer sure?"

Kate nodded, "Aye." She wiped her damp cheeks angrily, furious with herself, "It's nothin'…it's just…I'm fine."

"Clearly." Jim said, rolling his eyes. He made a small, helpless gesture with his hands, "Kate, what's goin' on with you?"

"Nothin'," Kate repeated, more firmly, "it isn't anythin' te worry about." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the sky, "I'm just… I guess I'm a bit homesick after all."

Jim shook his head, "Ah hah, ye see I don't buy that Kate McGowan. With all yer big talk, I don't buy that yer pinin' fer Ireland already. Not you."

Kate made a low, frustrated noise in the back of her throat; "Never said ye had te believe me, did I?" Jim narrowed his eyes at her and Kate spread her arms wide, "Jim, what d'ye care anyway?" She demanded, half despairing, half exasperated, "It's not as though we're life long chums; yer not on this trip so ye can be my keeper. I know it doesn't feel like it, but the truth is ye hardly know me!"

"Well maybe I _want_ te know ye!" Jim snapped back at her so quickly that Kate was positive that he had spoken without thinking first. Kate's eyebrows shot almost to her hairline. Jim rubbed a hand across his eyes, "I mean… ye know what I mean."

"Do I?" Kate said. She let the question dangle for a moment before continuing "I'm fine. Stop worryin'. I don't need ye worryin' about me."

Jim seemed to sense that he wasn't getting anywhere because he closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, "Fine." He said, looking at her again, "But just so ye know, I'm goin' te figure it out."

Kate tilted her head to one side, puzzled, "Figure what out?"

"Whatever it is yer hidin'." Jim replied with a shrug, "Sooner or later yer gonna give yerself away."

"I'm not…I don't know what yer talkin' about." Kate stammered, feeling the blood drain from her face, "I'm not hidin' anythin'."

Jim smiled blandly, "If ye say so." He took in Kate's stricken face and his tone gentled significantly, "And whatever it is, I'm not gonna care."

"Yes ye will." Kate all but whispered. "Oh God, ye will." Jim stared. Kate felt her throat close around anything else she might have said. There was a heartbeat's worth of silence in which neither of them moved, and then Kate darted around Jim and ran for the stairs. This time he made no attempt to stop her.


	11. Beyond Mortal Strength

**A/N:** I would have posted this last Friday but silly FF dot net stopped working and then I went to the cottage, so you get it today! Woot! This chapter starts exactly where the last chapter left off, so you'll want to read Chp. 10 if you haven't already. Just so you understand why Kate's in a flap, lol. Speaking of Kate, in the musical you get exactly four pieces of information about her: the first one is that she's Irish, the second will be revealed in a chapter or four (lol) and really isn't all that life-shattering and the remaining two will are the basis of the chapter you see before you. All I can say is - poor Kate got full-on double whammied by the writers. If you want to find out why and how, you'll have to read the chapter. By the by. THIS is the chapter that I intended to write, like, three chapters ago but kept getting bumped by the characters and their silly unpredictability. But it all worked out, because at first I was seriously stressing about how to write this but all the problems seemed to iron themselves out by the time I got here. Funny how that happens :)

I can't remember specifically who reviewed the last chapter, so I'll just thank everyone who's still reading and keeping me on alerts and give HUGS ALL AROUND! Enjoy lovely people!

* * *

Kate ran from the forward decks all the way back to her cabin. Several people she recognised called greetings as she approached– Katie Gilnagh, Margaret Devany, Stella and Dottie Sage – but Kate blew past them without slowing down. Later she would remember this and apologise for her rudeness, but just then, the last thought on her mind was being polite.

Throwing open the door to her room, Kate was relieved beyond measure to find it empty. If Petra or Mathilde had been there, Kate wasn't sure what she would have done. Slamming the door closed behind her, Kate leaned against it for a moment, panting hard, her eyes closed.

Without warning, looking almost panicked, Kate began fumbling at her clothes. She tore her hat from her head, scattering pins around the room, and undid her coat. She was in such a state that it took several tries to get the all of the buttons undone. Dumping the coat on the floor with none of the care she usually would have shown to such an essential and expensive garment, Kate ran to the small mirror that hung above the cabin's wash basin.

Dragging out the raised step that the Line provided for the convenience of people too short to properly see themselves in the glass, Kate climbed up and stared hard at her reflection. Kate did not need the stool – she was plenty tall enough to see her face – but it wasn't her face she was interested in looking at.

Taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, Kate ran her hands up and down her sides. She held her arms out stiffly and closely inspected the narrow line of her waist. Nothing, she looked entirely normal. She turned from side to side, spun around and checked her back. Still nothing. Swallowing hard, Kate turned so that her profile was framed exactly in the mirror. She stared at the reflection, looking for anything, anything that might give her away. She stared until her eyes hurt from the strain and her back started to ache from standing so rigidly. But even then, even knowing what to look for, Kate could see no outward sign that she was different any other girl on the ship. There was no way, _no_ _possible_ _way_ that anyone could figure out what was wrong just by looking at her.

For a long moment Kate stood there like that, convincing herself that she was still safe. Finally, Kate reached behind her back and grabbed a fistful of her skirt. She pulled the skirt taut so that the worn brown material lay flush with the lines of her body instead of flaring out from the waist as it normally did. And there, there it was: the damning evidence, the proof that she was not at all what she seemed. Kate dropped her handful of cloth as though it had scalded her. Immediately the skirt fell back into position, covering up her secret from the world.

Unable to look any longer, Kate got down from her stool and kicked it back into place. Her hands were shaking. But she was all right, she was still fine. No one would know. But Kate knew. Kate _knew_. And she was terrified.

She pressed her open palms to her middle, felt the slight swell of her abdomen, so faint that only Kate would have any idea that it wasn't her body's normal shape. Another month and half her mother had promised, six weeks at the very, very least before she would start having any difficulty hiding it. Kate took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly. She had time. She still had time.

A dock on the door to the cabin made Kate jump and spin around, both hands flying away from her waist as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. She stared at the door in alarm, then bent to scoop up her discarded coat and hat.

"Who is it?" Kate called, scrabbling under the bed for her hatpins.

"It's us!" Came Mullins' merry voice from the hallway, "can we come in?"

Straightening up, Kate tossed her armful of clothes up onto her bunk and wiped her hands on the sides of her skirt, "Sure ye can." She said lightly as though nothing was amiss.

The door opened and the other two Kates filed into the room, "Are ye comin' then?" Murphy asked, her keen eyes taking in Kate's slightly dishevelled appearance.

Kate made a vain attempt to smooth her hair back from her face, "Comin' where?" She said, trying to remember if they'd agreed to do something in particular.

"Te the dinin' hall." Mullins explained with an inquisitive tilt of her head, "Didn't ye hear them ring the lunch bell?"

"I…no, I s'pose not." Kate said, her mind racing, "I was lyin' down… because of my head, ye know?"

Mullin nodded vigorously, "Oh aye. Are ye feelin' better then?"

Kate smiled and found that she was able to so without feeling terribly forced, "Yes, thank ye. Much better." She smoothed her hair one more time and shook out her skirt, casting a surreptitious look at her waist band. Everything was in order. "Well, shall we go?"

Lunch once again proved that the White Star Lines spared no expense in terms of sheer amounts of food. Kate was accustomed to lunches that consisted of a roll of bread and, if she was lucky, maybe a cup of tea to soften it. She thought this might have been at least part of the reason that she didn't feel the slightest bit hungry, though doubtless there were other factors then that.

Contrary to earlier in the day when Kate had been so distracted that she'd barely been able to follow a simple line of conversation, she was now so determined to keep her friends from guessing at her unsettled state of mind that she was overcompensating. She laughed too loud and spoke too fast and was grinning so hard that her face was hurting.

This behaviour, combined with the fact that she had hardly touched her meal was not going unnoticed by Mullins and Murphy. After roughly twenty minutes and an innumerable amount of alarmed looks exchanged with Kate Mullins, Kate Murphy burst out, "For pity's sake McGowan, what's the matter with ye?"

One corner of Kate's ridiculous forced grin unhinged, hanging on her face like a broken shutter, "What d'ye mean?"

"Yer actin' a bit strange," Mullins said, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Strange?" Murphy repeated incredulously, "She's actin' like a right lunatic!"

This was at least the third time that Kate had been accused of being out of her mind that day. While this fact should have done nothing for her temper, Kate felt an odd sort of calm settle over her at the remark. With how she'd been behaving, it was no wonder that her new friends were all starting to question her mental stability. If Kate wanted them to stop worrying, if she wanted them to stop asking questions or thinking too hard about what could be bothering her, then working herself into a state was certainly not the way to go about dissuading them. She needed to calm down. She needed to channel the excitement and determination and the hope of yesterday when there was nothing in the world that could have damaged her spirits. And Kate could do that. She _had_ to.

Kate sighed and slouched backwards in her chair, "I know, I'm sorry," She said, "I've just had a lot on me mind since this mornin' and I s'pose I've been… not m'self really."

"Well now," Murphy said with a half-smile, "Ye coulda just said so in the first place. We'd not've minded ye know."

"Aye, well… trust me te make things harder fer m'self." Kate replied with a wry twitch of her mouth, "But ye don't have te worry."

The conversation might have ended there if Kate Mullins had not suddenly given a great sniff from her place at the table and lowered her head so that her blond fringe was practically brushing her plate. Kate and Murphy looked at each other and then at their friend.

"What're you about now Kate Mullins?" Murphy demanded.

Mullins sniffled again and wiped her face with her sleeve, "Nothin'," she squeaked in a small voice.

Kate leaned forward and peered at her friend, "For the love o' God, if she's not cryin'!" She exclaimed. Perplexed, she reached across the table and gave Mullins' arm a shake, "Here now, what's got into ye?"

"It's my fault!" Mullins suddenly wailed, drawing a number of surprised looks from their fellow diners, "It's 'cause o' me yer feelin' bad."

"What? No! Jesus God almighty," Kate said, trying very hard not to start laughing, "It's not yer fault Kate Mullins." Mullins sniffled even louder and buried her head in her arms. People were staring outright now and Kate cast a wide-eyed look at Murphy who had not even attempted to stifle her laughter and was now in near hysterics, "C'mon now, stop that, I promise ye it's not yer fault."

Mullins raised her head, "Really?" She asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Kate nodded emphatically but Mullins did not look entirely convinced, "But if I hadn't been such a nosy wee bint this mornin' at breakfast ye wouldn't've got so upset but I was an' now I've gone and ruined yer whole trip!"

"Well now yer just bein' a ninny," Kate said, not unkindly, eyeing Kate Murphy who was still laughing so hard that her face had turned purple, "Ye've done nothin' of the sort."

"But I…" Mullins began.

Kate cut her off, "Ye've done nothin', ye hear?" She said sharply, "All ye did was ask a question any girl'd ask a friend. It's certainly not yer fault that I happen te've had the misfortune of bein' a woman who's first real love turned out te be a lousy two-timin' arse who failed te mention his wife while he was tellin' me he loved me, now is it?"

Silence descended on the table like a shower of ice water. Mullins stopped snuffling, Murphy stopped laughing and both of them stared at Kate who took about two seconds to realise what she'd said before turning such a pale hue of greyish green that anyone watching would have been sure she was about to faint. Kate gripped the edge of the table so hard that her fingers cramped. Her mouth felt as though she'd stuffed it with cotton, her throat felt constricted to the size of a pin. She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe.

Kate Murphy was the first to recover. "Ye didn't mention he was married," She said coolly, her expression unreadable.

The words stung like a slap. Kate swallowed hard, willing herself to say something, anything, "I…I didn't know." She finally managed to gasp, "I'd no idea."

"Oh aye?" Murphy's voice was carefully level, almost curiously detached but Kate could sense an underlying thread of something that felt almost hostile, "And how'd ye manage te miss that detail then?"

Kate cast a fleeting panicked look around the room feeling like a cornered animal, "He…He came to the inn…the inn where I work," Kate stammered, "I'd never seen him before that. He didn't live in the village, no one knew him; he was a stranger. He said… he said he was visitin' fam'ly in Dublin city. He was alone, he didn't wear a ring, how was I te know?"

Murphy said nothing. Mullins was looking between with her mouth open and her eyes so wide they showed white all the way around. Kate's fingers tightened convulsively on the table, hooking the white linen table cloth with her nails. She looked at Mullins pleadingly, hoping that the other girl might say something to break the tension.

"So ye never asked then?" Murphy cut in, before anyone else could speak, "'Bout his fam'ly? 'Bout where he came from?"

"Well sure I did." Kate said a little defensively, "But I don't s'pose anythin' he told me was a word o' truth, was it?" She shook her head, "Kate," She said, addressing Murphy, "Kate ye have te understand, I'm not a girl as gets attention from men. Not ever 'til then. They think I'm pushy an' mouthy an' too wilful an' they never pay me no mind…"

Murphy twitched one eyebrow, "Ye do fine with Jim."

Kate shook her head again, harder this time, "Jim's not the same. Not the slightest bit the same," The words came out in a rush now, "This man, he noticed me right away, came on all friendly, payin' me compliments, tellin' me I was pretty. No one ever tells me I'm pretty. No one." Kate felt her voice trying to break, but she swallowed and kept on, "He kept comin' back. Said he had te see me, that he couldn't stop thinkin' about me. He said he loved me. He said he _loved_ me. How was I te fight that?"

"She couldn't have," Mullins said, her voice coming out a breathy squeak. She met Kate's eye and attempted a shaky smile. Kate could have launched herself across the table and hugged her, "Right?"

Murphy, however, ignored her, "Thought ye had more common sense then that."

"Pity fer me common sense has almost nothin' te do with it." Kate said ruefully, "He said he loved me an' that I was the only woman in the world fer him an' I believed him. If I'd known he had a wife…if I'd known I'd never o' given him the time o' day. But I didn't know." She reached across the table and grabbed one of Kate Murphy's hands, "I swear te ye I didn't know."

Carefully, not roughly or with any malice, Murphy withdrew her hand from Kate's grip. Very slowly she said, "Me Aunt Rose's husband got caught with her best friend." She looked at Kate hard, "Her _best friend_, who knew exactly what she was doin' runnin' around with a married man. It near killed Aunt Rose, she was that upset when she found out."

Mullins grabbed Murphy's arm, "But Kate didn't do that." She said, still squeaky, looking like a child whose parents were fighting in front of them, "Kate didn't know anythin', isn't that so Kate?"

Once again Mullins got no response. Neither did Murphy for that matter. All Kate could do was stare wordlessly back at her friend, her face burning with shame. She dropped her gaze to her lap, twisting the table cloth into a knot with both hands.

"I understand if ye hate me." Kate said after what seemed like an age, but was really only a matter of seconds. Her voice was pitched so low that it was barely audible, "I hate m'self most the time."

Murphy closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the cold look was gone, "I don't hate ye." She said.

Kate lifted her head and stared, afraid to hope that she'd heard correctly, "But… but ye said…"

"I didn't say I hated ye did I?" Murphy said sternly, looking vaguely uncomfortable, "I just said what I did so ye'd understand…why, I might've been…doubtful…of yer story."

"But ye don't hate me?" Kate repeated, "Truly ye don't?"

Murphy managed a smile, "Truly." She confirmed, "If ye say ye didn't know, then ye didn't. I've got no reason not te believe ye.," She looked away and fidgeted with her utensils, poking them into perfect vertical lines, " Besides…I don't have much in the way o' friends and…well, it'd be an awful shame te lose ye."

It felt as though the entire world had been holding its breath and just then let it out, so dramatic was the change in the atmosphere. Kate Mullins furthered this mood shift by promptly bursting into tears for a second time.

"Bleedin' hell, there she goes again," Murphy said bemusedly. She prodded Mullins on the shoulder, "Oi Mullins, get a hold o' yerself."

"I'm jus' s-s-so hh-h-happy!" Mullins howled.

Kate and Murphy exchanged a look and dissolved into laughter. Kate, though, thought she could just as easily have started to wail right along with Kate Mullins. Because she'd confessed, been judged and been found worthy of a second chance. Because she'd been forgiven. And that meant that there was hope. Things might still work out for the best, things might not be as bleak as they seemed. And maybe one day she'd even be able to forgive herself.

Murphy, still giggling gave Kate a mock-disapproving look, "Oh Kate, don't tell me yer gonna get weepy on me now too."

"What?" Kate asked, baffled. She raised one hand to her face and was surprised to find her cheeks wet. She grinned at Murphy who grinned back, "Oh lord, no it's just from laughin'." And though this may not have been entirely true, it really didn't matter either way.


	12. I Have Danced

**A/N** - Howdy all, sorry for the lateness of this chapter; it took me way longer to write than it should have. Stupid crazy life. Ahahaha. A-a-a-anyhoo, this is the obligatory "party in third class" chapter, because I'm pretty sure it's impossible to write a Steerage fic without including one of these. Especially since there actually were parties down in third class. In fact, when I was checking to find out what night of the trip the passengers were celebrating, I found so many conflicting reports that I've drawn the conclusion that it was just a party every day down there, lol.

This was a great change of pace after the angst of the last three chapters. I mean, DRAMA is fun and all, but Jim being adorable is funner (and yes, I know that isn't a word). besides, we all know there'll be drama aplenty in a few chapters, so take the fluff where you can.

Enjoy!

* * *

The air in the General Room was heavy with smoke and laughter by the time the second dinner seating had been cleared. After two days at sea for most of Third Class, it appeared that the passengers were feeling more at home on the ship and with each other. Routine was starting to settle in, people were learning their way around their sections of the _Titanic_'s decks, and anxiety caused by travel and the trauma of leaving home was beginning wear away leaving something like hope in its place.

Maybe it was this new air of comfort and cautious optimism that had helped to transform the general room from a cozy gathering area to a rollicking party hall. Either that, Jim thought surveying the organised chaos with wry amusement, or someone had finally let the Irishmen into the liquor. Probably a bit of both. Whatever the reason, there was no denying the celebratory mood in Steerage that night.

Jim figured it was jumping the gun a bit to be acting like they were going to land in America the next morning when in reality there were still a good four to five days left at sea. But Jim had long since given up hope that people would ever behave in a manner that made even the smallest amount of sense. And even Jim had to admit that whoever had talked Eugene Daly into picking up his pipes for the evening had to be something of a genius because the man could play, make no mistake.

Tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music, Jim took a final swing of his beer, stubbed out his cigarette and lay his hand of cards on the table, "That, my fine lads, is what we call a straight flush," he announced.

Across the table fellow Irishmen Denis Lennon and Jerry Burke threw down their cards with a round of good-natured swearing, "Ye bloody damn blighter," Jerry said with a scowl, " That's two fer two; ye couldn't play te save yer friggin' life yesterday!"

"Aye well, I wasn't tryin' yesterday." Jim replied with a touch of smugness, "Thought I'd let you fellas win a round or two so's not te hurt yer pride as much." Behind his chair, a few of the other men whooped with laughter and Roger clapped him on the back.

"Ah shut yer hole ye smarmy bastard," Jerry shot back with a lop-sided grin that indicated there were no hard feelings, "Play again, aye? Best outta five."

Jim laughed, "Ah no sorry boys, I'm out." He stood up, relinquishing his spot for anyone else who wanted to join the game. Patting Jerry consolingly on the top of his head, Jim added, "Ye'll stand a chance now maybe."

Jerry swore and swatted Jim's hand away, much to the general amusement of everyone in the crowd. Jim touched the peak of his cap in mock respect and grinned before heading away from the table in search of someone to refill his drink.

It was no easy feat navigating the room. Nearly half the population of third class was up on their feet dancing to the lively tunes issuing from Eugene and his impromptu band of musicians and avoiding collision with the joyful swirl of bodies was challenging to say the least. Skirting the edges of the makeshift dance floor – really just a spot in the center of the room that everyone had cleared of tables and chairs – Jim had to keep one eye on the dancers and one eye on the equally enthusiastic onlookers to keep from inadvertently sending anyone flying. He dodged several couples whirling through the improvised dance steps, a line of children chasing each other pell-mell through the crowd, a line of mothers trying to catch their pell-mell children, and a pack of men cheering for their friends at what appeared to be an arm wrestling tournament before finally coming out the other side of the room feeling as though he'd just gone through a windmill.

Jim had just decided that it was safe to let down his guard a little, when he was sideswiped by petite figure with a load of blonde hair and the momentum of a small train. For a precarious second they both looked in danger of crashing to the floor, and then Jim caught his balance. He hauled his assailant – who was more or less dangling from his grip on her upper arm – upright, opened his mouth to ask if she was all right and instead said, "Mother o' God you Kates are bloody ev'rywhere."

Kate Mullins, who didn't even look rumpled despite their collision, beamed hugely at him and threw her arms around his waist as though he was her oldest, dearest friend and not some man she'd spoken to for all of five minutes the evening before, "Jim! Hallo!" She said gleefully, squeezing him hard enough to break ribs, "How are ye?"

"Erm… I'm fine, thank ye," Jim said, feeling extremely bemused. He thought he was going to have to pry the girl off of him, but she let go of her own accord, still grinning so hard she looked in danger of hurting herself. It was almost impossible to avoid smiling back at her, "Ye seem te be gettin' on well yerself."

"Oh aye," Mullins chirped, "I'm havin' a grand time." Without any prompting from Jim she swung her arm out with far more enthusiasm than was needed for such a simple gesture and pointed to a corner of the room, "Kate's over there."

Jim felt his whole body give a spasm of something like alarm, "What?"

Mullins eyed him, smiling in a way that suggested she wasn't quite as oblivious as she might otherwise come across, "Ka-a-ate." She repeated, drawing the name into several more syllables than it normally had, "Is sittin' over by that table with Kate Murphy, an' Katie Gilnagh, an' Kate Connolly, an'…."

"Please tell me there's no more Kates over there," Jim interrupted.

"An' Petra an' Mathilde, an' the oldest Goodwin girl whose name I can't remember, an' Stella and Dottie, and Jerry's cousin Nora." Mullins finished as though Jim hadn't spoken at all. She paused for breath and then added, "But ye prob'ly don't care 'bout the rest, aye?"

Jim was momentarily at a loss for words, taken by surprise by this deluge of information. He thought about asking Mullins to repeat the names just to see if she would, but instead finally said, "Kate…how is she then?"

Mullins raised her eyebrows, smiled that same little wicked smile, fluttered her eyelashes innocently and said, "Well now, shouldn't ye ask her yerself?" before flouncing off in the direction of her group of companions.

The very thought was enough to make Jim shudder. Not the actual act of going over to speak to Kate but the fact that to do so would require him wading through her steadily growing pool of friends. And if Mullins' behaviour was any indication, Jim wasn't sure he could handle the sheer amount of suggestive smiles and knowing giggles that would accompany such an endeavour. Not to mention the fact that there was a very real possibility that Kate wouldn't want anything to do with him after what had transpired up on deck that afternoon. Jim decided that, for the sake of his health, he'd have to wait to catch Kate alone. It was safer for all involved.

So, ignoring Mullins' not-so-subtle attempts to make him detour to Kate's table, Jim went instead to the bar, got himself another beer and steeled himself for the dangerous return trip across the room. Still, he watched Kate out of the corner of his eye as he went. By all appearances she was back to her old self. Certainly she seemed less angry, her ferocious ill-temper replaced by laughter that Jim could hear even through the rest of the din. And the smile was back, the cheeky one that had burned itself into Jim's memory the first moment he'd seen her. He'd missed it earlier.

Jim made it back to the card game without getting broadsided this time and settled into an empty chair to watch. Roger had taken Jim's place, joined by Ivan Strilic, who had won the night before, and one of the Gustafssons – Alfred or Karl, Jim could never remember which was which. Jim didn't have the faintest idea how any of them were concentrating; the music had picked up momentum and the persistent rhythm kept pulling Jim's focus back to the dance floor.

It seemed that several of the braver lads had decided to go disrupt the flock of girls gathered in Kate's corner because Jim saw Jerry – who had evidently given up on the card game – swing by with pretty, dark-haired Katie Gilnagh on one arm and Katie's friend Mags Devaney on the other.

Jim smirked at Jerry as he passed and Jerry responded with a self-satisfied waggle of the eyebrows. Jim snorted into his beer and shook his head. Distracted by this spectacle, and deafened by the noise, Jim didn't realise that anyone was approaching until the chair across the table scraped back and a lithe figure swept into the seat like a stray gust of wind.

"Jerry doesn't have the slightest idea what he's doin' takin' on both o' those girls at once," Kate said, eyeing the trio in question with a wicked grin. She swivelled to face Jim, propped her chin on her hands and added, "Evenin' Jim."

It was getting to be such a common occurrence, Kate appearing out of nowhere at unexpected moments, that Jim was barely even surprised. Only the slightest twitch of his shoulders betrayed the fact that he hadn't seen her coming. Swallowing his mouthful of beer and Jim set the glass back on the table and said, "Evenin' yerself." He gave Kate a wary look, "How're you?"

Kate kept her features impassive, but he could hear the finality in her voice when she said, "Oh, I'm just fine." She smiled slightly in what Jim thought might have been thanks, and then leaned back in her chair, arms folded over her chest. "So, did ye trounce the lads proper then?"

Jim took that as a clear sign that the subject was closed and they were, under no circumstances going to discuss anything that had or had not happened since breakfast. He nodded – he certainly wasn't stupid enough to disagree – and replied, "Oh aye. Why d'ye think Jerry's out carryin' on with the girls? He's gotta find some way te get his great bloody ego patched up."

"He could be in fer a rough night of it then," Kate said, laughing.

"Ye got that right," Jim agreed, watching his friend attempt to manoeuvre both young ladies through the crowd of dancers, "Think someone forgot te tell Jerry that though."

Kate grinned, "He'll learn." She shifted in her chair again, as though she was finding it hard to sit still, "This is nice isn't it? Seein' ev'ryone relaxed and enjoyin' themselves?"

"Aye, 'tis." Jim was facing out to the dance floor, but he watched Kate out of the corner of his eye. She couldn't stop fidgeting, first with the waist band of her skirt, then the buttons on her blouse, the cuff of her sleeve. She kept drumming her fingers on the table in a rhythm entirely separate to the pulse of the music, and she repeatedly smoothed her hair back from her face, even when there was no stray hair to be seen. If Jim didn't know better, he'd swear she was nervous about something. However, asking Kate if she was all right was a dangerous thing to do, so Jim said, "What happened te the other girls? Don't hardly see ye down here without Mullins an' Murphy trailin' along."

Once again sweeping a hand back over her curls, Kate shrugged, "Nothin' happened, they're back where I left 'em." She gestured backwards over her shoulder, "I… just thought I'd have a change o' scenery is all."

Teasing Kate was about as dangerous an activity as asking her what was wrong, but still Jim couldn't resist putting on a mock wounded look and saying, "And here I thought ye'd come over here 'specially te talk te me."

To his immense surprise and strange satisfaction, two spots of colour appeared high on Kate's cheeks. Even so, she managed a convincingly unconcerned smile and replied, "Oh ye did, did ye?"

Jim matched her tone and bland expression, "I did, yeah."

Kate's mouth pulled just slightly to one side as though she was fighting to keep from losing her composure. Resting her elbows against the top of her chair, she shrugged and said, "Well, sorry te disappoint."

"Not particularly disappointed truth be told," Jim said. That made Kate's face go positively crimson, and, being that he was pretty sure she was about to lunge across the table and throttle him, Jim added hastily, "Because yer here talkin' to me now whether ye'd planned it or not."

She appeared mollified by this amendment, though her eyes were still narrowed, "Aye, well… ye do seem te end up in me path."

Sensing that she still hadn't been completely convinced not to cause him bodily harm, but not entirely sure what to say to remedy that, Jim simply nodded and kept his mouth shut. Kate glared at him wordlessly for a moment or two, and then smiled in spite of herself. Jim pretended not to have noticed. After a minute Kate started fussing with her clothes again while Jim continued to monitor this behaviour in his peripheral vision. He had the strongest sense that she was gearing up to say something, and though he knew he should probably just let her alone until she decided to speak, her twitchiness was making Jim edgy, "Christ, have ye got fleas or somethin'?"

Kate first looked startled, but then she quickly regained her poise and gave him a look that Jim was sure could have made something or someone curl up and die. Even so, she immediately dropped her hands into her lap. Jim raised his eyebrows at her in silent inquiry. Kate rolled her eyes to the ceiling, appeared to take a deep breath and hold it and then blurted, "D'ye want te dance with me then?"

Whatever Jim had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. He stared at Kate blankly as though trying to decipher the meaning of the words. Eventually he decided that she had not been speaking in code, that she'd actually meant what she'd said. Still, Jim was so taken aback that it was another few seconds before he regained his voice.

"I don't dance." Jim said, much more curtly then he'd intended.

Kate's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but she managed to otherwise keep her expression steady, "Sure ye dance, ev'ryone dances," She said brightly. Kate attempted a cajoling grin, and reached across the table to lightly bat Jim's arm, "Yer not gonna let Jerry have all the fun, are ye?" When he didn't respond, her grin faltered like a light bulb flickering, "C'mon Jim, dance with me."

Jim shook his head, adamant, "No, no, I told ye, I don't dance," He tried to make light of the situation, "An' believe me, ye don't want me as a partner. Ye'll end up with naught but a foot full o' broken toes. Last girl I danced with didn't walk fer a week after."

The grin had disappeared completely from Kate's face now, and Jim felt a sharp pang of dismay. Still she rallied almost immediately, drawing herself up a little taller and squaring her shoulders, "All right then," She said, as though it didn't matter in the slightest, "Thought I'd ask."

They fell silent. Kate absently traced the ring of condensation from Jim's beer glass with one finger. She was frowning; a crease had appeared between her eyebrows. Jim felt that he should say something, but he couldn't find the words. He wasn't even sure what had just happened, only that he'd hurt her in some way.

Kate suddenly got to her feet, "Well," She said, airily, "I guess I'll go find the girls. They'll want te dance, I'm sure." She smiled forcedly, "I'll see ye later Jim Farrell,"

She flounced away in a whirl of skirts and red hair. Jim watched her get swallowed up by the crowd and then swore at no one in particular. Pulling off his cap, Jim rumpled his hair and wondered why he and Kate seemed incapable of having a normal conversation. At best he'd just wounded her pride, and Kate was fiercely proud. It was true, though, what he'd said, about not being a dancer. As a general rule he hated to dance, because he felt exposed and self-conscious. But here was the kicker, the thing that had caused his knee-jerk reaction to her invitation: Jim had wanted to say yes.

The logical part of his brain, the part that ruled Jim's life and had the final say in every decision Jim made told him to stop being an idiot. That he shouldn't be encouraging her. That only a fool would let some chit of a girl waltz into his life out of nowhere and settle in as though she'd always belonged there. That in five days, he and Kate would go their separate ways and there was no sense pretending otherwise.

But there was another part of Jim's brain, a much smaller, largely unused part that was doing its best to be heard. It was telling him that some day, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week, maybe in a year, Jim was going to regret not having danced with Kate. And that pissed him right the Hell off.

Jim downed the remainder of his beer in two swallows and got up from his chair. He was fairly certain that he'd lost his mind. Crossing the room for a third time, Jim stopped at the corner that Kate had occupied previously. All the girls had disbanded to join the dance floor, all but Kate and Mullins and Murphy who were standing in a circle talking with their heads close together so they could hear each other. Kate had her back to Jim so it was Mullins who saw him first, and when she did her eyes widened a fraction and she kicked Kate in the ankle.

Kate yelped, "Jesus, what was that fer?" Mullins, in response, grabbed Kate by the shoulders and spun her around. When she saw Jim her jaw dropped.

Jim raised his eyebrows and extended his hand. Kate stared at him as though he'd just sprouted five extra arms and turned purple. Jim rolled his eyes, "Look, d'ye want te dance or not?" he demanded, painfully aware of the way both Mullins and Murphy were goggling at him.

"I…" Kate looked at Jim, then down to his offered hand, then back.

"C'mon Kate," Jim said, echoing her earlier words, "dance with me."

A grin crept across Kate's face. She looked up at Jim, nodded and put her hand in his, "All right," she said, "But I'd better come outta this with all my toes in tact, aye?"

Jim closed his fingers around hers and led her out to the floor, "I'll do my best," He promised, "But don't say didn't warn ye." Kate laughed. And though Jim was still certain that he'd lost his mind, he was also certain that didn't much care.


	13. Paved With Gold

**A/N:** Gaaaaah, I so fail at life. This took SO much longer to get posted than it should have considering its shortness. I blame West Side Story and the RPG that stole my brain. Yup, that'll make sense to, like, ONE person here. Anyhoo, sorry this chapter is so late, and so lamely short. It's one of those awkward interstitial chapters that sets the stage for a bunch of stuff that's gonna happen later. For example, this particular chapter sets up the next three or four. So it's important. But short. Lol.

Note of randomness - Kate, Murphy, and Jim are all from Dublin county, but only Jim is actually from Dublin city. However, the girls would have visited the city a few times during their lives. I don't actually know that it's relevant here, but I know Kate's talked about visiting Dublin, but also says that she lives there...so...both are true. I'm not contradicting myself, I swear! ANYHOO.

Enjoy the chapter! (and if you are a mysterious lurker, please review so that I can thank you for reading/favouriting/alerting. Much love to all!!! :D)

* * *

"What d'ye think New York is like?"

Kate, who was sitting on a bench up on the Poop Deck, her face lifted to catch the warmth of the sun, opened one eye and peered at Kate Mullins, "Whassat?" She said, stifling a yawn with the back of one hand. The party yesterday had gone well into the night, and no one had gotten much sleep.

Mullins had her arms folded across the top of the bench and was watching the people promenading around the deck, "New York," She repeated, "I don't know anythin' about it 'cept that it's big." She glanced sideways at Kate, "D'ye think it'll be awful diff'rent from home?"

"I expect so, aye," Kate replied thoughtfully, "I mean right away ye know there's not just Irish there. It's like this boat – a little bit o' everythin'; Americans o' course, but loads of other sorts of people too."

"Hmmmm," Mullins rested her chin on her crossed arms, "I wonder what it looks like. I've never even seen a picture."

Kate shifted position on the bench so that the sun was out of her eyes and rubbed the muscle in her calf; it was sore from all the dancing she'd done the night before, "I saw one once, on poster in the window of a shop in Dublin. But ye couldn't see much of anythin', just a lot of big buildin's, lot taller than anythin' we got in Ireland."

"There's a great big statue too, of a grand lady with a torch." Kate Murphy supplied, from her end of the bench, "It's in the harbour, s'posed te welcome newcomers te the country I think. Bet it'll be the first thing we see when we get there."

"I've seen that," Kate said eagerly, "Well, it wasn't a real photograph, just a drawing, but I'm sure it was the same statue."

Mullins turned around on the bench and looked at Kate with bright eyes, "Really? An' she looks like that, with the torch an' all?"

Kate nodded, "Aye," She jumped up from the bench, "She stands like this see?" Kate assumed the position of the statue, one arm raised as though holding an imaginary torch.

Murphy laughed, "Just like that, 'cept she's got a book too," Withdrawing her battered Bible from the inside pocket of her coat – a place, Kate had discovered that Murphy habitually stored it – Murphy placed it in the crook of Kate's other arm. Kate started to giggle, "No laughin'!" Murphy reprimanded.

Obediently, Kate composed her features into an almost perfect mask of nobility. She raised her chin in a dignified way and stared importantly out into space. The illusion was ruined somewhat by the fact that Kate had to purse her lips hard to keep from smiling.

"There!" Murphy declared, while Mullins clapped her hands and laughed delightedly, "A perfect Lady Liberty you are."

"What in the name o' God are ye doin'?"

Without breaking her pose, Kate arched an eyebrow and peered at the speaker out of the corner of her eye, "Hullo Jim. I'm bein' the Statue o' Liberty, can't ye tell?"

Jim gave a short chuff of laughter, "Aye, yer the spittin' image," He said drily. Kate grinned at him and Jim rolled his eyes, "And why, dare I ask, are ye pretendin' te be some great ruddy statue, eh?"

"'Cause Kate Mullins'd never seen it," Kate replied, dropping her arms to her sides.

"I hate te break this to ye Kate, but ye've never seen it either," Jim replied, one corner of his mouth pulling into a small smile.

Kate swatted him with the back of one hand, "Hah hah," She said tonelessly, handing the Bible back to Kate Murphy, "I've seen a picture, 'twas good enough 'til I see the real thing."

"Aye, well people are starin'," Jim informed her, "Not that I think ye much _care_ about drawin' attention te yerself."

"Yer hilarious Jim Farrell," Kate said. She attempted to smack him again, but Jim saw it coming this time and sidestepped the blow. Kate grinned, "Ah, he learns."

A small noise caught both of their attention and they turned in unison to look. Kate Murphy had folded her arms across her chest and was looking at the pair with unmasked amusement. Kate gave her a puzzled look, "Did ye want somethin' Murphy?"

"Oh no," Murphy replied lightly, "I was just remindin' the two o' ye that we was still here."

If there had been any way to do it subtly, Kate would have stomped on her friend's foot. Since that wasn't an option, Kate settled for levelling her very best glare at the still unabashedly amused Murphy and taking a pointed step away from Jim. Any rift that had formed between Kate and Jim during their argument yesterday had been healed good as new, thanks to the fun they'd had at the party. If she let herself think about it, Kate could still feel the memory of Jim's arm around her waist as they danced. For this reason she was pointedly _not_ letting herself think about it. But it had been nice to see him at breakfast and have him actually call out a greeting. And it was nice to see him now. Kate just didn't need Murphy pointing it out so blatantly.

Fortunately Mullins, who could always be counted on to unwittingly diffuse an awkward situation, said, "Have you seen a picture too Jim? Of New York?"

Jim shrugged, "Sure, I've seen one,"

"Why'm I the only one who hasn't?" Mullins whined, sticking out her lower lip.

"Because ye live way the Hell up in bloody Donegal," Kate replied with a teasing grin, "An' the rest of us are from Dublin. Hell, we've prob'ly all seen the same damn picture."

Mullins scowled and lifted her nose into the air, "We have shops in Donegal too ye know," She said primly. Unfortunately for Mullins, she wasn't able to maintain the air of rebuke for longer than three seconds and so she almost immediately beamed and said, "D'ye think there might be a picture somewhere on the ship?"

"There might be a print up in the dining saloon," Jim replied, taking a seat on a bench opposite the three Kates, "I don't know though I never looked very hard." He eyed Mullins curiously, "Why d'ye care so much then?"

"Because it's gonna be my new home," Mullins said earnestly, "An' I can't wait te see it. It sounds like such a lovely grand place."

Jim shook his head, "Ah I see ye've been talkin' te this one too much." He jerked one thumb in Kate's direction, "She's filled yer head with her nonsense."

Kate made an indignant noise in the back of her throat, "It is not nonsense Jim Farrell!" She said, "Just because yer the only person on this boat as isn't the least bit excited, doesn't mean the rest of us've gotta be that way."

"Aye, so ye never fail te inform me." Jim said rolling his eyes. Kate stuck her tongue out at him. "An' I hate te burst yer wee bubble Kate McGowan, but I'm not the only person here who's not jumpin' fer joy at the thought of America. There's plenty as'd much rather o' stayed home if they'd had half a choice." Jim leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "Problem is, people like us," He waved a hand around the group, "Don't have half a choice, do we?"

"Well that's a mighty sad sentiment," Kate said with a frown.

Jim gave her a thoughtful look, "Have ye really not noticed it then? How nervous people are?" Kate shook her head, "Well take a look around next time yer down below decks. Yer the one bustin' te see the new world, but it seems te me most people are just tryin' not te think about it."

Kate considered this. She cast her gaze around the deck, watching the passengers ambling by, talking to friends and family and taking in the sunshine. None of them looked particularly unhappy to be there, "Well, I s'pose people're bound te be sad about leavin' their homes and all, but I don't see…"

"It's not about leavin' home," Jim interrupted, "I mean, it is a bit, sure, but really what're we all headin' fer? Think about it, none of us really knows, aye?"

Mullins looked extremely worried by this new train of thought, "But…But I've heard about lots of people who've done the trip already."

Jim shrugged, "Ye've heard what we've all heard," He said, not unkindly, "That there're jobs and nice places te live and…what d'they call it…_opportunity_. But who's te say that's actually how it'll be?"

"I say that's how it'll be," Kate replied, narrowing her eyes at Jim.

"Oh aye," Jim shot back with a smirk, "Kate McGowan, authority on ev'rythin'." Kate's foot lashed out and caught Jim on the ankle before he could get out of her way, "Ow! Jesus Kate, I'm not tryin' te fight with ye, I'm just tellin' ye how it is. People worry about what they don't know."

Kate didn't want to get into a spat with Jim, especially not now when they were getting on so well, but she couldn't stop herself from glowering at him. Kate wasn't sure what bothered her more: Jim's pessimism, or the fact that something must have happened in his life to make him that way.

Because she wanted to stay on good terms with Jim for at least the next twelve hours, Kate bit back the snippy retort she wanted to make and instead declared, "Well, I'm gonna keep on bein' hopeful if that's fine with ev'ryone."

Mullins nodded vigorously, "Yes yes, o'course that's fine. I like it better when we talk like ev'rythin's gonna turn out right. It's too sad otherwise."

The thus far silent Murphy said, "Aye, ev'ryone lighten up before Mullins starts te cry or somethin'."

"I'm not gonna cry!" Mullins said indignantly.

"Aye and I'm glad," Murphy replied, giving Mullins a fond pat on the knee, "Nothin's more depressin' than people burstin' into tears all over the place."

Kate laughed with just a hint of embarrassment colouring her voice as she remembered her own tears from yesterday afternoon, "Ye got that right," She said. Jim shot her a fleeting sideways glance that Kate didn't think she was supposed to have seen. She obligingly pretended that she hadn't.

At that moment the bell signalling that lunch was getting ready to be served rang, making all of them jump. Murphy shot a disgruntled look in the general direction of the sound, "We've been summoned," She said drily; "D'ye think first class gets a bell clanged at them at meals?"

"If they do, I'm sure it's a very polite an' _dainty_ bell," Kate replied with a grin. She got up reluctantly from the bench, stretched and said, "All right lad and lasses, let's go."

While Mullins and Murphy trotted on ahead, Kate fell back to walk with Jim. He glanced down at her and for a moment said nothing. Kate shoved her hands into her pockets and allowed him his silence. Finally he said, "What, so ye aren't gonna try an' convince me I'm wrong then?"

Kate smiled wryly, "Ah no." she assured him, "What's the point?" she continued lightly, "Ye'll just tell me I'm outta my head anyway."

Jim made a small indistinguishable sound in his throat. Kate looked up at him quizzically, tilting her head to see past the brim of her hat, but Jim didn't respond. She shrugged and turned away again. They continued in silence down the staircase to the point where Kate had to break off so she could put her coat and hat away in her cabin.

She opened her mouth to tell Jim she's see him in a few minutes, but he cut her off, "I don't think yer outta yer head ye know."

Kate blinked, "'M sorry?"

"I just…" Jim frowned, as though having trouble finding the proper words, "Don't know how te think like you do."

"I…" Kate stammered, momentarily speechless.

Jim took her temporary inability to talk to his advantage, "Well, I'll see ye in the dinin' hall, aye?" He nodded a goodbye and hurried away before Kate could even fully register the conversation.

"See you." Kate said softly into the empty hall. She remained there for a moment feeling as though she'd just missed something very important before turning with a sigh and heading down to her cabin.


	14. Lady's Maid

**A/N:** Howdy all! Today I (finally) bring to you another chapter of what I have lovingly dubbed The Epic. Three facts about this chapter: 1 - This is the first scene since chapter two that actually_ happens_ in the musical. Which means that it is also the first scene since chapter two to contain bits of dialogue from the script, 2 - This scene in the musical is actually a song. Like, a big, full-blown production number. It is, in fact, one of my favourite songs in the show, 3 - it is REALLY HARD to translate a full-blown production number into a normal life scene while keeping the mood and intent of the song, but cutting out the inherant cornball aspect, but hopefully I've managed.

An incredibly huge MASSIVE thanks has to go out to **LC**, **Vee**, **Cookies** and **Squishy** who may actually be the four most awesome people I've never met. Thank you again for all your reviews and kind words, you guys rock the universe.

**Disclaimer**: I haven't done one of these in twelve chapters, but considering the yoinking of scripted dialogue, I thought I should :) So, all yoinked dialogue belongs to my good friends (bahaha) Peter Stone and Maury Yeston, not me. Hoorah.

* * *

It seemed regular human nature to seek routine in an otherwise unfamiliar situation, which was why, Kate reflected, nearly everyone was seated in the same places they'd occupied the past two days despite the fact that no rule stated that they had to confine themselves to one seat in the saloon. As such, it was easy to find Mullins and Murphy because they were exactly where they always were at meal times. Jim, likewise, had taken his habitual seat at the end of the table closest to the left of where Kate and her companions had situated themselves. He hadn't deviated from that spot since yesterday's breakfast. Kate was glad of this; it allowed him to remain within earshot, but kept her friends from teasing her the way they would if she invited him to sit with them.

Kate glanced at Jim as she approached her seat and he nodded in acknowledgement of her presence, but didn't say anything. Kate wondered if he was thinking about what he'd said to her.

Dropping into her customary chair across from Mullins and Murphy, Kate helped herself to one of the oranges that had already been placed in a basket on the table. The fresh fruit was probably Kate's favourite part of every meal; she'd hardly ever got anything like that at home, except as a very rare treat.

"Where'd ye go Kate?" Mullins asked, "We got down te our cabins and ye weren't there no more."

"She was talkin' te Jim, obviously," Murphy replied before Kate could answer herself. To Kate she added, "We figured ye'd catch up te us."

Kate smiled sheepishly, "Aye…well…"

Murphy waved her quiet, "Never mind, we got no problem with ye hangin' 'round Jim, do we Kate Mullins?"

"Oh no!" Mullins said earnestly, "We don't mind at all. It's sweet." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I think the two o' ye should get married."

Kate gagged on her orange, "What?!" She yelped, drawing concerned looks from several people, including Jim. Leaning in close to Mullins she hissed, "Are ye daft? I've not even known him a full three days, I can't _marry_ him."

Mullins made a dismissive tutting noise, "Me Mam an' Da only courted a week 'fore they got married an' they're still happy as anythin'." She adopted a very dewy eyed expression that Kate hoped sincerely was an act, "Things like that don't matter at all if it's _love_."

A noise Kate didn't even know human beings were capable of making – one that sounded as though she was trying to swallow a boulder – escaped Kate's throat, "I…I….what?" She squeaked again, feeling a wave of heat wash over her entire body, "I don't….that isn't…._what?!?_"

"Aw see that?" Murphy said, gently batting Mullins across the shoulder, "Look what ye did."

Kate was still so thoroughly gobsmacked that she couldn't even begin to form a rational response. Fortunately, she was spared the effort by the sound of a very insistent bell reverberating around the saloon. Grateful for this distraction, Kate, along with all of her fellow diners, turned to find the source of the noise. A white-coated steward standing near the entrance to the kitchens seemed to be the perpetrator: he was holding a small gold bell in one hand, and using his other to silence the clapper.

The steward cleared his throat, "A reminder to third class passengers," He began formally, as though reading from a script, "Not to bring food below to their cabins."

Mullins, who Kate knew had got in the habit of swiping a few extra rolls of bread for a midnight snack, fluttered her hand shyly to catch the steward's attention, "Um…what's the reason fer that then?"

At this, the steward broke his formal act all together and gave Mullins a wry smile, "It encourages the rats."

Several women gave shrieks of alarm, several men guffawed with laughter. "They got rats on a brand new ship?" Murphy demanded indignantly.

"They're always the first aboard," The steward replied indifferently. He grinned at the group as a whole and added, "Enjoy your meal."

Murphy scowled, "Rats!" she repeated, shaking her head, "I guess that's the end of yer contraband bread Kate Mullins."

Mullins pouted, "But I _like_ me bread." She said huffily, "Stupid rats."

The dinner, sumptuous as always was laid out before them in no time. Kate, eying her meal, laughed and said, "Well, the little buggers're welcome te have some o' my share." Off of her friends' curious looks she elaborated, "Sure an' me entire family could live a week off o' just what I've been leavin' on me plate." Kate grinned, "Ye'd pay a fortune for a meal like this back home, an' here we get it all fer free!"

"_Free_? Are ye daft then?" Jim interjected from Kate's left.

Kate made a mock insulted noise and spun around on her chair, "Ye eavesdroppin' there Jim?" She asked with a grin, pointedly ignoring the significant look that Mullins and Murphy had just exchanged.

Jim ignored her, "If it's so free, why d'ye s'pose they charged us ev'ry bit o' sixty shillin's fer our passage?" He demanded playfully.

It was easy to see that Jim was intentionally trying to get her riled, which was why Kate only smiled calmly and waved an arm around at the room, "Have ye not seen this place Jim?" She teased, "Sixty shillin's is a fair price I'd say, fer all this fancy livin'."

"Oh aye?" Jim shot back, getting up from his chair to pluck Kate's white linen napkin from her lap, "An' what do _I_ need with all this fine cloth and electrical light?" He asked, dangling the offending cloth in Kate's face.

Kate leaped out of her chair and made a grab for the napkin, which Jim held easily out of her reach. She scowled, but was unable to maintain the stern expression for any length of time. Kate had the distinct feeling that Jim was trying to make up for his earlier doom and gloom attitude by passing it off as playful banter now. When Kate made a second attempt to get hold of the napkin, Jim tossed it away. Kate grabbed it in midair, gripped the cloth by one corner and used to whip Jim sharply across the backside. When Jim spun around to glare at her, Kate smiled innocently and fluttered the napkin at him.

"Well Jim Farrell," She said sweetly, "_I'm_ gonna have fine cloth, electrical light and a whole lot more when I get to America."

Jim smirked at her, "How'd I know ye'd say that?"

Kate was suddenly aware that they were causing something of a spectacle. Mullins and Murphy were staring openly, of course, but so were a number of other people at surrounding tables. A ways away, Kate saw Petra elbow Mathilde and point in Kate's direction. If what Jim said was true, and people were really worried about their future in America, then this was an opportunity to change that, maybe get them a bit excited. Kate crossed her arms nonchalantly and said in a much louder voice than she'd been using previously, "Well I am, I'm gonna have it all," She grinned, "Includin' me own, personal, bathtub."

Behind Kate's back, Mullins gave a delighted squeal and dissolved into giggles. Several other people reacted as well, which only made Kate's grin grow wider. Jim was looking at her in utter bewilderment, "What in the name o' God are ye…"

"The New World Jim," Kate said, "Land of _opportunity_." She stressed the word the same way that Jim had when speaking up on deck, "And I'm gonna rise straight te the top I will, just like cream."

Jim had evidently noticed that they had an audience, because he threw a bemused glance at the neighbouring tables before hissing, "Kate what are ye tryin' te do?"

Kate gave Jim a sly look, but otherwise ignored him, "I'll be a proper person, a real respectable lady, the sort people'd look up te."

"Sure ye will Kate!" Mullins exclaimed clapping her hands together, "Ye'll be right grand, won't ye?"

"'Course," Kate replied, beaming at her friend. To Jim she said, "I'm aimin' te have a real profession I am."

Mullins quite literally bounced up and down in her seat, "Me too!"

"Me three," Murphy put in with a wry grin. When Kate looked at her in surprise she said, "Well, sure an' I'm not gonna sit around lettin' you two have all the glory, aye?"

"So, what'll ye be then?" Maggie Daly asked leaning across the back of her chair to look at Kate and her friends. Maggie was maybe ten years Kate's senior and was travelling with Eugene, the pipe-player.

Kate smiled at the older woman and flopped back into her seat, "A lady's maid," She answered promptly.

Jim, who had apparently floundered into speechlessness two minutes ago, found his voice again, "Lady's maid?" He scoffed, "Ye mean waitin' hand and foot on some rich biddy? I can't think of a job that suits ye less."

"An' why's that?" Kate said haughtily, "I can read an' write an' sew, and I was always the best girl on the job when I worked at the inn. Plus, lady's maidin' I'd get te live in a great grand house, and be around fine people all day an' night."

"Well I'm gonna be a sewin' girl," Mullins said cheerfully, not picking up on Kate's indignant tone at all, "Just like me Mam." Her eyes lit up when she spoke of this, good honest hope shining through, "Me cousin Moira – she's just my age and exactly like me – she went te America two years ago an' married this fella called Joseph an' his sister Eleanor owns a dress makin' shop called Goddard's and Moira works there, so _she_ said that _they_ said that I can work there too!"

Like most things Mullins said, this took a moment of pondering to work out, but eventually Kate caught on to what she meant and grinned, "Yer lucky Mullins, havin' a job waitin' fer ye like that."

Mullins beamed, "Aye, I know." She nudged Murphy with her elbow, "What about you Kate Murphy, what're you gonna be?"

Murphy gave this a moment of careful thought and then replied, "A governess I think."

"Ye'd be good at that," Kate said, "Ye've got such a way with children."

Murphy nodded, "That's what I thought. I'd like te find a nice family, with lots o' little 'uns te look after. An' be like you Kate, in yer big fancy house." She added with a slightly shy smile, as though embarrassed to admit that she too had dreams of rising above her current station.

Jim, meanwhile, had returned to his seat and was now looking at all three of them in a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, as if he couldn't quite figure out if they were having him on or not. Kate, seeing this, nudged him with her foot, "Somethin' wrong Jim?" She asked with a mischievous grin. Jim narrowed his eyes and spun around on his chair so that his back was to her. Kate frowned at him.

"So ye think America's all its cracked up te be, do ye Kate?" Jerry Burke asked from the far end of Jim's table. Jerry's younger cousin Nora, a tiny demure little thing who barely spoke and seemed afraid of her own shadow, was sitting beside him watching Kate with curiosity.

Kate pulled her gaze away from Jim's back and smiled, "Sure," She replied brightly, "Why shouldn't I think so?" From his chair, Jim made a low, wordless sound of pure annoyance. Kate resisted the urge to pinch him.

"It'd be good if it was, wouldn't it?" said Nora, her soft voice almost lost in the din of the saloon, "I hope yer right Kate."

Quiet Nora's gentle sentiment was enough make Jim look up from where he had previously been glowering into his cup. Kate smiled at Nora and flashed Jim a triumphant look before returning to her seat. Jim watched her progress, his face inscrutable. When Kate arched an eyebrow at him in question, however, Jim quickly looked away.

Mostly everyone had turned back to their meal by then, but Kate could hear people chattering animatedly with the neighbours. Kate felt positive that the mood in the dining hall had shifted and that the buzz of nearby conversation now carried with it a definite note of excitement. Maybe that was wishful thinking, maybe it was only what she hoped to hear. Kate glanced at Nora, who was talking to Jerry with a bright smile painted across her face. Maybe she _was_ imagining things, but Kate didn't think so.

Mullins certainly seemed brimming with anticipation. She grabbed both of Kate's hands across the table and said, "Kate, Kate it's gonna be grand. Just like ye said; I know 'tis."

Kate grinned at her friend and gave her fingers a squeeze, "Aye, I know so too." She replied. Withdrawing her hands, Kate pressed them momentarily to her belly and thought about all the reasons she was here. Talking like this gave her hope too, hope that things might turn out in the end.

While Mullins chattered on about her plans for the future, with Murphy adding the occasional two cents, Kate cast a sidelong glance at Jim. To her immense surprise, he was no longer hunched over his plate, scowling like the world was ending. He was, in fact, watching Nora and Jerry, the way Kate had watched them earlier, no doubt noticing that tiny, scared Nora looked more lively and animated than she had since sailing day.

As though he sensed Kate watching him, Jim turned around. When he caught her eye she grinned, not her usual full-of-cheek expression, but a gentler version of the same, one that was almost encouraging. She wanted so badly to tell him to let himself believe. Maybe Jim caught something of this in her look, because he blinked at her and immediately turned away again his face just as unreadable as before save for the tiniest, tiniest upward pull of one corner of his mouth. It was almost a smile. Kate gave a satisfied nod and turned back to her friends. Almost would do. For now, it would do.


	15. To Rise Above Myself

**A/N:** Well, my goal was to have this up two days ago, but I guess 48 hours difference isn't so bad. Well, herein Kate acts like Kate, Jim feels feelings, and Mullins and Murphy wonder why they managed to make friends with the two most clueless people on the ship. Well...maybe not that last part. But hey, I'd be wondering that if I were them. Anyhow, this chapter was me taking an important character beat from the Lady's Maid song and tranplanting it somewhere else that works better, lol. Hopefully Peter Stone won't rise from the dead and haunt me about it. Also, I feel like I should apologise to Jeremiah Burke, who probably wasn't half the doofus I keep making him out to be. Sorry Jerry! Last point of randomness: the story about the Sages is true. You'll know what story I mean when you get there.

Thanks, as always, to the infinitely wonderful **LC**, **Vee** and **Cookies** whose kind words make my week. You ladies are awesome!

* * *

Jim's careful pre-conceived notions about what this crossing was going to be like were rapidly disintegrating. He'd expected cramped cabins, mediocre food, rough weather and bad company and had got not one of those things so far. Instead he had a clean bed, more food than he'd seen in his life, more time to relax than he'd ever even been able to fathom, and a ship full of people who were proving far more interesting than not.

And then, to top it all off, Jim had bloody Kate McGowan tramping through his previously predictable existence like she had every right to be there and turning everything completely upside down.

All in all, it was making Jim extremely irritable.

Currently he was sitting in the General Room moodily nursing a beer and trying to ignore the chatter of the crowd surrounding him. Ever since Kate's ridiculous display at lunch time, people had apparently lost the ability to discuss anything but the wonderful glorious promise of America. It was New World this and New World that, until Jim was about ready to throw himself overboard just so that he wouldn't have to listen to them anymore.

Still, Jim couldn't help but at least partially pay attention. At that moment two entirely different sets of ambitions were being discussed on either side of where Jim was sitting. To his left, an Englishman who Jim knew by sight but not by name was telling Roger and the Goodwins, Frederick and Augusta about how he hoped to work on the railroad, maybe even one day become an engineer in command of his own steam engine, while to Jim's right Ivan Strilic regaled a large number of others with his plans to open a shop. It struck Jim how many variations of the same theme there were; how many different ways people could dream the same dream.

Jim took another swig of his beer and sunk lower into his chair. No matter how long he sat there, Jim couldn't seem to make himself join in with the conversation, but at the same time he couldn't make himself leave either. Every time he made up is mind to get the Hell out of there and away from all the ridiculous talk of America, something kept him from getting up from his chair. Jim was not accustomed to being so undecided, so pulled into two directions, and it was doing nothing for his mood.

Also doing nothing for his mood was the fact that Kate was sitting at a table about five feet away looking as though she was queen of the entire damn universe. Of course, that was nothing new; Kate often had that indefinable look, the one that set her apart from anyone else Jim had ever met. It was something in the way she carried herself, with her chin up, as though daring the world to tell her something she couldn't do. Jim knew he shouldn't be annoyed with her for it, because it wasn't conscious, because it was just something in her make-up, it was built in. And it wasn't constant either – sometimes she slipped, like in those moments when Jim was sure he'd caught her hiding something, and yesterday when she'd started to cry so suddenly up on deck.

Jim must have been staring, because Kate caught his eye and flashed him that ear-to-ear grin of hers. He scowled and looked away. Jim thought that perhaps the reason he felt so irritated with her was because, when she was like this, so absolutely, radiantly, sure of herself, he could feel some long dormant part of his being struggling to surface, a piece of himself that he'd abandoned so long ago that he'd assumed it was gone for good. And that scared the Hell out of him.

Apparently oblivious to Jim's current state of disgruntled annoyance, Kate breezed over from her table and dropped unceremoniously into the chair directly across from him. "Somebody asked Kate Mullins what kind of things she wants te sew," Kate said with no greeting or preamble of any sort, "I'm not sure what the answer was, but somehow it seemed te involve the colour green and about ten cousins."

In spite of himself, Jim couldn't stop a small twist of a smile from appearing on his face, "The colour green?" he repeated, "What's that got te do with anythin'?"

"Damned if I know," Kate said with shrug and a grin, "Mullins is a dear heart an' I love her te bits, but I don't always know what she's talkin' about." Hooking her elbows over the back of her chair, Kate added, "But I do know that in ten minutes I'll go back there an' she'll still be chatterin'. Girl's got nothin' wrong with her tongue."

"Now who does that remind me of?" Jim said with a mock puzzled frown.

Kate flicked a cigarette butt that was lying on the table at Jim's head. It bounced, instead, off the front of his vest and landed in his beer. Jim gave the offending piece of detritus an indignant look and then scowled up at Kate, "Now look what ye did!" he exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed and instead coming off as amused.

"Serves ye right, you an' yer smart mouth," Kate shot back, her eyes crinkling merrily in contrast to her otherwise stern expression.

Jim kicked her boot lightly under the table; Kate returned the gesture then grinned. Jim caught himself about to grin back, and then remembered mid-way that not five minutes earlier he'd been in a foul mood. And then Kate showed up and there he was acting like a daft teenager. That realisation caused the smile to slip sideways a bit, taking on the appearance of a grimace instead. Kate didn't seem to notice; her focus had shifted to Jerry who, in a bid to impress the gathered women-folk, was telling a wildly improvised tale about how he'd act once he got to be a police constable in New York, complete with dramatized arrests performed using Roger as an unwilling assistant.

Scowling again, Jim went to take a swallow of his drink then remembered that it was now contaminated by the drowned remains of a cigarette. Glad for an excuse to get up from the table, Jim scraped back his chair and got to his feet.

The movement caused Kate to look away from the hilarity in front of her and squint up at him, "Where're you goin'?"

"Gettin' a new drink," Jim said brusquely, tapping the rim of his glass with one finger.

Kate smiled sheepishly, "Oh. Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Jim shrugged, made a vague grunting noise and hurried away from the table. When he dared to glance back at Kate she was once again immersed in the spectacle of Jerry making a complete arse of himself. Good. The last thing Jim needed was her getting up and following him.

It didn't make a damn bit of sense the way one girl, one mouthy, hot-headed, indescribably frustrating _girl_ could, in three days, break down almost twenty-five years worth of ingrained indifference and disillusion. Jim was on this boat, not because he wanted to be there, not for some ridiculous fantasy, but because he had no other choice. So why on earth did he get around Kate for five minutes and end up feeling as though maybe that wasn't entirely true?

Grabbing his fresh pint of beer, Jim took a pre-emptive gulp before heading back to the riotous crowd at the other end of the room. He reminded himself firmly that hope was dangerous, that it didn't lead to anything but disappointment and heartache. This was something he knew, something he'd experienced first hand, and nothing that Kate said or did could change that truth. That was life. That was _his_ life.

Returning to his seat, just in time to witness the grand finale of Jerry's bit of playacting – predictably, it involved Jerry tripping over a table leg and landing on his ass – Jim made up his mind to finish this drink and then take off to his cabin where he could be done with all this America business for at least the next few hours. He was tired of listening to it, all of it.

"Ah yer back," Kate said, shouting to be heard over the laughter of the crowd, "I wont flick anythin' else into yer drink, aye?"

"I'd be much obliged if ye didn't," Jim replied drily.

Any further conversation was prevented by the appearance of Murphy and Mullins, the latter of which fairly bounced into the chair beside Jim and said, "Kate, did ye know that Dottie Sage's family is gonna live in the south and grow pecans?" From the look on her face, this was the single most amazing idea that Mullins had ever heard.

Kate grinned, looking not even momentarily thrown by this comment, "Are they really? Good lot, those Sages, they'll do fine fer themselves."

"D'ye know I'm not even sure what a pecan is?" Murphy commented, with a bemused smile, dragging a chair over from an adjacent table and sitting down beside Kate. "They're them little nut-things people put in pies, aren't they? Hullo Jim." She added, inclining her head in his direction.

"Yes, hello Jim!" Mullins echoed, beaming, "It's fine evenin' isn't it? With ev'ryone so cheerful?"

Jim had to fight very hard to keep from rolling his eyes, "Aye. It's grand." He said tonelessly.

Mullins nodded vigorously, not picking up on his lack of enthusiasm, "It is, it is!" She exclaimed happily, "I'm so glad ye think so."

Kate, however, was giving Jim that look, that damn infuriating, trying-to-read-his-mind look that made Jim feel so utterly exposed. She twitched one eyebrow, "Do ye think that Jim?" she asked innocently, "Because fer just a second there I thought maybe ye were wishin' ye were somewhere's else."

Damn. Jim could have thrown something at her. Instead he took a measured breath, "No, I'm fine where I am." He replied evenly, not wanting to give Kate the satisfaction of being right.

"Sure he is!" Mullins chirruped, "Why wouldn't he be?"

Kate shrugged, "Dunno. Jim's just the sort as doesn't believe in talkin' 'bout what could be. He's happy bein' just what he is," She slanted a look at him, "Isn't that so Jim?"

Jim stared at her, feeling his temper rise. He opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again. What he intended to say was that, just because _she_ seemed to live with her head somewhere twenty feet above the rest of the world, and just because _she_ insisted on clinging to useless, stupid, ridiculous _hope_ like it was the only thing in the world that mattered, didn't mean that he had to. Instead, what he said was, "Just because I choose not te announce it te the whole third class doesn't mean that I don't want te amount te somethin' better'n what I am, aye?"

This time it was Kate's turn to stare and stare she did, for what felt like an eternity. Just when Jim thought he'd shocked her into permanent immobility, a curious expression crossed Kate's face, one caught somewhere between surprise and satisfaction, "Well now Jim," She said with a smile, "Why didn't ye say so?"

Still wondering what had just possessed him to say such a thing, Jim was unable to respond. He merely ran a hand through his hair bemusedly and shrugged. Kate smiled more broadly.

Mullins and Murphy, seemingly aware that something momentous had just occurred but not entirely sure what it was, looked from Kate to Jim and back again in utter bewilderment. Finally Murphy said, "What the hell's happenin' now?"

"Nothin'." Kate said in a tone that seemed to imply exactly the opposite. She got up from her seat, shook out her skirt and swept around the table to stand behind Jim's chair, "I'm just proud o' me boy here, is all," She added, patting the top of Jim's head as though he were an obedient puppy.

Jim turned around to rebuke her, but his sharp words withered in his throat the moment he caught Kate's eye. Despite her teasing tone of voice, the look on her face was genuine happiness, as though he'd just made her day. Jim scowled and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "Well…it's true anyway." He muttered, only partially against his will.

Kate punched him lightly in the shoulder, "There's hope fer you yet Jim Farrell." She declared. To Mullins and Murphy she said, "Girls I hear a rumour that the stewards'll give out apples an' oranges any time o' day – ye want te go see if it's true?"

Mullins looked eager and then the next instant apprehensive, "But what about the rats?" She whispered theatrically, as though just the mention of the rodents would bring legions of them swooping down on her.

"They never said nothin' 'bout us bringin' food here," Kate said with a shrug, "Just te our cabins."

"Aye, an' what d'ye think the rat's gonna do, grab the food right outta yer hand?" Murphy teased, poking Mullins in the ribs. To Kate she said, "All right, let's go see, I could use a bite o' somethin'."

Kate nodded enthusiastically, "Me too. We'll see ye in a bit Jim, aye?" She said over her shoulder as she was propelled towards the door by her friends.

Jim waved a hand at her, "Aye, sure, I'll be here." He replied half-heartedly. Kate waggled her fingers at him in farewell and hurried away. Jim watched her go, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, and then downed the remainder of his beer.

For some reason Jim felt angry with Kate, Kate and her knowing smile and bright eyes. _There was hope for him_, that's what she'd said. But it wasn't true; there was no hope for Jim, or for anyone else like him for that matter except maybe the hope to make it through the next year without starving to death. And yet Kate insisted on making people believe otherwise, on making _him_ believe otherwise.

Abruptly, Jim got up form his chair and headed for the door to the general room without as much as a goodbye to any of his friends. They were all too caught up in their foolishness to notice his departure anyway. Though he'd told Kate he would be here when she and the other girls returned, Jim had no desire to stay there waiting for her to come back and start up with her nonsense again. Instead, he'd go get his coat and hat and go up on deck where there was nothing to listen to but the wind. It would be a welcome relief from all of Kate's big talk.

Of course, deep, deep down Jim knew perfectly well that it wasn't just talk. Kate really and truly believed what she said. And deep, deep down that small quiet, neglected part of Jim's mind wondered whether what bothered him more was the fact that she believed, or the fact that he wanted to as well, but couldn't.


	16. Be Thee Well

**A/N:** So, there isn't much to say about this chapter except that it used to be part of a bigger one before I decided that twenty pages was way too long for any chapter to be. Like, ever. Consequently I don't have a whole lot to say about this other than to promise that the next part will be here soon so you won't be left hanging for long.

More thanks and hugs to my lovlies, **LC**, **Vee** and **Cookies** GLOMPS ALL AROUND!

* * *

Arm in arm, the three Kates made their way from the Third Class Dining Saloon singing "The Rocky Road to Dublin" at the top of their voices. It was a testament to their mutual high spirits that even Kate Murphy was belting along given that she normally would have been hanging back looking as though she feared for her companions' sanity.

Kate McGowan, sandwiched as always between the other two, was feeling particularly plucky. Between the buoyant atmosphere in the steerage decks, the discovery that fruit was indeed available at all hours, and the fact that she'd made it a whole twenty-four hours without feeling even remotely close to bursting into tears, Kate was fairly certain that nothing could being her down from her happy mood.

Between bites of apple, the three young women yodelled their way through the song, half-skipping down the hallway and drawing alarmed looks from anyone they passed on the way. It turned out that not one of the trio knew their chosen ditty in its entirety. By the time they reached the main staircase that lead up to the general room and the exit to the Well Deck, they were all alternating between inventing words and substituting choruses of "la la la's" in place of actual lyrics. They were laughing so hard that Kate might not have even noticed Jim half way up the stairs had he not turned to stare at them in bewilderment. As it was the other girls still didn't see him there, doubled over as they were, shrieking with laughter.

Jim must have gone back to his cabin because he had his coat and hat on. Kate caught his eye, grinned, and opened her mouth to call a greeting. Before she could say anything, however, he turned and bounded the rest of the way up the steps and out of sight. Kate frowned; it was odd for him to pass by without so much as a hello, even stranger for him to miss out on such a perfect chance to tease her. Puzzled, Kate allowed the other girls to drag her up the steps and back into the common area, eventually joining back in with the singing despite the new distraction.

By all appearances, it looked like it was going to be another late night in third class. Nobody seemed the slightest bit weary. In fact, if Kate wasn't much mistaken, the energy in the room was even higher than it had been when she'd left.

"This has been such a good day, hasn't it?" Mullins said, gnawing on her apple core, "I'm never gonna be able te sleep t'night, I know it."

Murphy laughed, "Lord, I'll have no problem, I can tell ye that," She said, re-pinning a few strands of hair that had come loose from her usually perfect bun, "I'm just about done in."

Mullins gasped and grabbed both of Murphy's hands in her own, "Oh ye can't go te bed yet Kate, they've just started the music again," She pleaded, turning the full force of her big blue eyes on her friend, "Ye gotta stay fer just a little bit, aye?"

"Mother o' God," Murphy grumbled, with a bemused grin, "I'll stay if ye just stop givin' me that face." To Kate she added, "Girl looks like a damned kicked puppy when she does that."

"Aye, she does." Kate agreed, "Maybe more pathetic'n that even."

Mullins bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet and squealed gleefully. Kate got the distinct impression that Mullins knew precisely the effect that her beseeching expression had on the unsuspecting public. "Ye'll stay then?" Mullins said, clasping her hands under her chin and looking as adorable as she could manage, "I'm so glad! Let's go find a place te sit 'til the dancin' starts."

Grabbing Murphy by the sleeve, Mullins took off across the room, dragging the other girl behind her like a very bemused banner. Kate, laughing, went to follow then stopped short, remembering the strange almost-encounter with Jim. She had to admit that she was a touch disappointed that he hadn't waited for her and the other girls to return the way he'd said he would. Still, he had probably been on his way out for a smoke and would be back in no time, Kate reasoned. The only flaw in this logic was that smoking was allowed in the general room, so Kate didn't see why Jim wouldn't have just stayed there instead of going to all the trouble of making a trip all the way to the bow of the ship to get his coat. Perhaps he'd wanted some fresh air? It did get awfully stuffy in the relatively cramped quarters of the common area.

Besides, it really wasn't any of Kate's business where Jim Farrell went and why. After silently reminding herself of this, Kate took another couple of steps in the direction that her friends had headed, but stopped again almost immediately. Sighing, Kate pressed her knuckles to her temple and looked back over her shoulder at the door. For some reason she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Kate chewed her lower lip and bobbed up and down on the spot, impatient with her indecisiveness. What could it hurt to go check on him? Jim had done the same for her not two days earlier, hadn't he?

The matter decided, Kate slipped back out of the General Room and headed for her cabin to grab her own coat. From there it was a quick jaunt back to the staircase. Kate, still humming under her breath, half-skipped up the stairs and onto the deck. It was cool out, but not cold and a pleasant breeze was blowing, which was a welcome change from the occasionally stifling heat below decks.

Kate found the Well Deck occupied only by a young Italian-speaking couple that she vaguely recognised, and a pair of elderly gentlemen smoking and arguing in a rough, low dialect that Kate couldn't identify. There was no sign of Jim, so Kate made her way to the staircase up to the Poop Deck. Bounding up the steps, using the railing to swing herself up and over the top stair, Kate landed on the deck with a light thump and looked around. A quick scan of the area revealed not a soul in sight. Momentarily baffled, Kate frowned at the apparently empty deck, then realised that Jim must be hidden off towards the portside of the stern, behind one of the big white capstans. She set off in that direction, still feeling quite merry in spite of this unexpected detour. The decided spring in her step set her curls bouncing in time with her footfalls.

"What in God's name are you doin' up here?"

Even though she'd been expecting to come upon Jim suddenly, Kate still gave a little shriek and clapped both hands over her heart. Jim was sitting on one of the benches, almost completely hidden in shadow; Kate had gotten almost a full two meters past him before he'd spoken. Fixing him with what might have been an imposing glare had she not been simultaneously grinning impishly, Kate said, "Well Jim, ye _almost_ made through the whole day without scarin' the livin' daylights outta me." She wagged a finger at him, "An' yer one te talk; yer up here too aren't ye?"

"Aye." Jim got up from his bench, walked right past Kate to the railing, and flicked the remains of his cigarette overboard, "But the way you three were carryin' on down below I thought maybe ye'd somehow gone and got yerselves roarin' drunk."

Kate laughed, "Not us. We got ourselves an apple apiece but nothin' else. Just enjoyin' life a bit is all." She pushed her hair back off of her shoulders and shrugged, "Is that why ye didn't see fit te say hello when ye saw us?"

Jim snorted incredulously. "I'd just seen ye not a half hour earlier hadn't I?" He said, giving her a perfectly inscrutable look out of the corner of his eye, "Didn't figure I had te shout a greetin' ev'ry time we cross paths."

That was Kate's first hint that something was not quite right. At no point in the voyage so far had Jim failed to acknowledge Kate's presence when she passed by so instead of coming off as dismissive the way she was sure he'd intended, the comment took on a decidedly defensive air instead. Narrowing her eyes, Kate gave Jim a searching look. Sure he was a sarcastic sort of fellow and never the sort of man she would describe as particularly exuberant, but Kate had come to appreciate his dry sense of humour. Looking at him now, Kate could see not a trace of the quiet amusement that usually marked Jim's demeanour. In fact, Kate thought that he actually looked rather annoyed.

"What's the matter with you then?" She demanded, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't know what yer talkin' about," Jim said with a frown, "There's nothin' the matter with me." He gave her another sideways look, this one just as unreadable as the first and leaned against the rails. Staring down into the water breaking against the side of the ship he added, "Go te sleep Kate; it's late."

Kate knew a dismissal when she heard one. However she had never been the sort to give in just because someone was trying to make her do so. She stood her ground, "Don't you go orderin' me around Jim Farrell, I'll go te sleep when I bloody want te."

Jim shook his head, still not looking at her "Fine," He said curtly, "Whatever ye want."

Nonplussed, Kate pursed her lips and stared at the back of Jim's head for a moment. She recognised that tone of voice, because she'd used it uncountable times herself. It was the one she used when she was upset or bothered by something and trying hard not to show it. Having such a tone directed at her now, was not only disconcerting, but also worrisome because it meant that Jim was not annoyed; it meant that something was wrong and he was trying to get her to leave him alone so he wouldn't have to talk about it.

Kate sighed and absently brushed an imaginary hair from her forehead. She should leave him be, she decided and go back to the party, or to her cabin. "Well," She announced, mustering up an indignation that she didn't feel, "Don't s'pose I much want te hang 'round up here with you bein' so snarly." Jim glanced at her then, a look of something Kate felt positive was guilt flashing across his face. Ignoring this with some difficulty, Kate nodded curtly, "Good _night_, Jim Farrell."

She marched off with her chin in the air, feeling Jim's eyes on her the whole way. Kate got three quarters of the way down the steps to the Well deck before she stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Damn." She muttered under her breath, closing her eyes for a moment. It didn't feel right, leaving him there; it made her conscience uneasy, as though she was doing something wrong, something she would regret later. There was nothing for it: with a massive sigh, Kate turned around and trudged back up the stairs. So much, she thought, for a worry-free day.


	17. Don't Tell Me Never

**A/N:** What is this?!?! Two updates in three days? SURELY THE APOCALYPSE IS NIGH. Well, actually, like I said last that chapter, this section and the previous one used to be one big mondo chapter before I split them up, so I figured, since this was essentially finished, why not post it a bit sooner? But don't get used to it - this'll probably be the last time this happens. Well...until the ship sinks anyhow. WE SHALL SEE. Anyhow, I could go on and on about this chapter, but I'd give all the fun away then, so I won't say anything except that this was way fun to write and that I'm pretty sure it's the emotional turning-point of the story. So, I hope you all enjoy yourselves XD.

More thanks than can ever be quantified go to **LazyChestnut**, **viennacantabile**, and **xXc0okieSsNcrEamXx** for being the most awesome reviewers a girl could ask for. Everyone should go check out their stuff because for surely they are amazing.

* * *

When she was near enough to the top of the staircase that she could peek over the top step, Kate saw that Jim was right where she'd left him, leaning against the railings with his back to her. Kate finished her climb, stepped out onto the deck, then immediately changed her mind and backtracked into the shadows. She idled there for a minute, torn between wanting to find out what was the matter, and wanting to respect Jim's clear wish to be left alone. But then Kate thought of the number of times she'd driven off one of her brothers or her mother or a friend when really what she wanted most was for them to realise that something was wrong and to force her to talk about it.

Kate groaned and raked one hand through her hair, "Oh Kate what the hell are ye doin'?" She grumbled in the direction of her boots. Taking a deep breath, she started across the deck for a second time. Whether Kate wanted to admit it or not, the fact was that she'd gotten extremely fond of Jim and she didn't want to walk away when there was a chance he might need her. After all, roles reversed, she had no doubt that he would be there for her.

If Jim saw or heard her coming, he made no reaction until Kate came up beside him and rested her elbows on the railing. He glanced at her slantways and made a small exasperated noise but said nothing. Kate, following his lead, propped her chin on her hands and also remained silent, staring out into the black expanse of ocean.

After a moment or two Jim said, "I thought ye'd decided te go te bed?"

Kate shrugged, "Changed me mind." She removed her chin from her hands and crossed her arms over the top of the railing, "Besides, I didn't want yer death on me conscience if ye decided te hurl yerself overboard while I was sleepin'."

Jim shot her such a withering look that Kate regretted the comment immediately, "Oh aye?" He said with an incredulous raise of one eyebrow, "Is that why ye think I'm up here?"

"Why not?" Kate shot back in challenge, "Ye certainly look miserable enough, an' it's not as though ye gave me any other explanation is it?"

Jim threw both hands into the air in exasperation and took a few steps away from her. Turning back he said, "Kate, you are a damned infuriatin' woman, ye know that?"

"I've been told once or twice," Kate deadpanned, keeping her face utterly neutral.

"Aye, I s'pose ye have!" Jim snapped. He looked as though he wanted to say something else but instead made a low, frustrated noise in the back of his throat and stalked off along the deck.

Undeterred, Kate hurried after him, "Look Jim, I know I've not known ye long, but I figure I've got a good enough idea of what yer normally like, an' this isn't it." Kate drew up even with him, slightly winded, and then hopped in front of him, blocking his path, "Ye've not been actin' like yerself since I got here."

Jim stopped and glared at her. Kate could see plainly, however, that there wasn't really any heart behind the glare, "What is it, exactly, that ye want me te say?"

"Well, I really wouldn't know, would I?" Kate replied, putting her hands on her hips and returning the miffed expression tenfold, "But ye could start by tellin' me what the Hell's the matter with ye."

"As I've said," Jim ground out through clenched teeth, "There's nothin' the matter with me."

"And as _I've_ said," Kate returned, tossing her head indignantly, "I don't believe ye!"

Jim rolled his eyes, "Well that's really not my problem is it?"

He pushed past her and headed back to the railing. Kate watched him lean against it and run one hand over his eyes wearily. She frowned and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to get some sense of what was going on. After a moment's hesitation, she approached him again.

"I don't understand it Jim," Kate said warily, attempting to keep her voice calm despite her concern and aggravation, "Ye seemed fine earlier…"

"God Kate, don't ye ever give up?" Jim growled, raising his eyes to the night sky.

"Sure ye weren't up an' foolin' around like Jerry, but ye never do that, an' ye were laughin' an' jokin' with me…" Kate went on, ignoring him completely.

Jim closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, "Kate…"

"And the next thing I know yer skulkin' about up here actin' like someone died," Kate finished, "What the Hell happened?"

"Nothin' happened," Jim said, not opening his eyes.

Kate snorted in disbelief, "Somethin' must've!" she exclaimed, "Else why are ye…"

She never got to finish her question because Jim suddenly whirled on her and half-shouted, "Fer the love o' God Kate, do ye never stop? I never saw the like of ye fer sayin' whatever pops into yer head whenever ye please, ye damn ridiculous woman!"

Kate's jaw snapped shut and she took a step backwards, completely caught off guard by the outburst. Jim, apparently, was not done berating her because he continued, still in an almost-shout, "Where the d'ye get off gettin' folks all worked up over nothin'? Over some silly daydream?"

The question came so out of left field that Kate could hardly even register what he'd asked. Completely thrown, she gaped at him momentarily before finally managing to spit out, "What on earth are ye talkin' about?"

"Ye know perfectly well what," Jim snapped.

"No, I really don't think I do," Kate said, feeling no less wrong-footed but distinctly more annoyed. She was not used to being so thoroughly dumbfounded by a conversation and she didn't care for the feeling in the slightest, "Talk plain fer God's sake!"

"This afternoon down in the dinin' hall, and then all evenin' after that," Jim said, his voice down several notches in volume, but no less heated, "You gettin' the whole third class worked into some frenzy over what might be waitin' fer them in America. Gettin' ev'ryone's hopes up, actually believin' that the things they dream could come true."

"Christ almighty," Kate said, her mind still reeling from the sudden turn in the conversation. She shook her head and raised one hand to adjust her hat, only to realise half-way that she'd forgotten to put the hat on. She settled for fussing with one of her hair combs instead, "Is that what's got ye so worked up Jim?" She demanded, "That I dared to try an' get some people excited 'bout where they're goin'?"

Jim didn't reply, just gave her a long look before turning and walking a little ways away. He stopped after a few feet and leaned against a capstan, his back to her. Kate, thoroughly disgruntled, squeezed her eyes shut, counted to five and then followed him.

"Look, remember what ye said when we were all up here earlier, 'bout people bein' worried?" Kate said to Jim's back, her arms crossed securely over her chest. He had her on the defensive and she hated that. "Well, I thought, what if you were right? What if ev'ryone felt more like they was headin' to an executioner, 'stead of what should be a new start fer all of 'em? An' I figured maybe I could help." Jim turned to look at her then, his face unreadable. Kate pulled herself up taller and lifted her chin, "So forgive me _Jim Farrell_, fer thinkin' that maybe folks needed somethin' te lift their spirits. I didn't hear ye complainin' when ye were sittin' right there with all of us."

Jim stared at her without saying anything for a long time. Mildly unnerved, Kate resisted the urge to speak or shift out from under his gaze. Instead she stared back at him with every ounce of defiance she could muster, arms still crossed, chin still raised stubbornly. After what seemed like an age, Jim shook his head.

"Honest te God Kate, I don't know what te make of ye," He said, leaning back against white steel of the capstan and using one hand to fuss absently with the peak of his cap.

Kate flashed him a wry half-smile and relaxed her posture just slightly, "Yer just full o' compliments t'night aren't ye?" She said, daring to take a few steps closer.

"I mean it," Jim continued, ignoring her comment, "Yer like no one I've ever met. I can't decide if yer puttin' it on, or if this is actually the way ye are."

Kate frowned, "What d'ye mean by that then?"

Jim tossed his hands in the air again and paced agitatedly from Kate's left to her right, then back again, "You!" He exclaimed, "Paradin' around this boat like ye own the damn thing, goin' on about how grand yer gonna be, how wonderful yer precious New World is like ye actually believe it te be true! As though dreams like that can actually exist fer people like us."

"But I do believe it," Kate said, her spine stiffening, "People like us? You speak fer yerself Jim Farrell because I believe ev'ry word I said an' I don't know why I shouldn't either."

"Because yer smarter then that!" Jim replied with an unmistakable note of disbelief in his voice. He looked as though he'd have liked to give her a good shake, "And say what ye like, but yer story's not so different from mine. Poor Irish family with too many children an' not half enough money te care for 'em proper, father an' mother workin' themselves half-dead when there's work at all. How old were you when ye had te stop yer lessons and start workin' Kate? Ten? Eleven?"

Kate dropped her gaze to her hands, and knotted her fingers together, "Eleven," She answered quietly, almost reluctantly.

"Ye see?" Jim slapped the top of the railing, making her jump, "And yet ye'll stand here an' tell me that ye honestly believe yer gonna land in America an' miraculously become somethin' other than the poor little Irish steerage rat that ev'ry fine and fancy person on this ship thinks ye are."

A white-hot ribbon of anger uncoiled in Kate's chest, and the anxious knot of her hands unravelled and reformed as twin fists at her sides, "Don't you try an' tell me what I will or will not be," She spat, feeling her face blaze as though someone had set a flame to her skin, "_This_ rat's not gonna let _anyone_ tell her what she will or will not be, Jim Farrell."

Jim at least had the common sense to look somewhat chastised. He took a step back as though afraid she might burn him, the hard angry look on his face faltering, "Ye make no sense; how can ye keep thinkin' like that when ye know damn well most o' the world thinks yer wrong?" He demanded.

Kate, looking no less furious, pounded one fist against the top of the railing, "Why is it so hard te accept that I can?"

"Because I stopped believin' that anythin' could get better years ago an' by all account you should've too!" Jim shot back, his face and eyes full of a hard, stone-cold anger that was so uncharacteristic to him that Kate felt her own anger falter, replaced by something closer to worry. Then, without warning, something seemed to shift in Jim's gaze and the look on his face changed so dramatically that Kate felt her vague concern swell into outright alarm. It was like watching someone let the air out of a tire. Kate took a step towards him, but Jim held out a hand to ward her off.

Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking suddenly exhausted, "Kate, it's been so long since I let myself think I might be able te make somthin' of my life, I don't even know if I can do it anymore. I used te, I used te imagine what might happen if I just got the right chance." He glanced at her fleetingly, as though unsure of how she would take this unexpected confession, "But I learned the hard way that all that kind o' thinkin' did was make ye fall harder when it didn't happen. There's no point believin' in fairy tales Kate; they don't come true."

Kate had no idea what to say. She ran both hands through her hair, pulling loose a number of curls that sprang free and immediately fell into her eyes. She made a small helpless gesture, "Jim…" He waved her quiet and for a long while they simply stood there staring at each other.

Finally, Jim said, "An' the damndest thing is, I can tell ye all this an' you'll go right on believin' like it makes even a shred o' sense." He gave her a look in equal parts frustrated and bewildered, "How did ye get like that Kate?" When ye've lived the kind o' life we've lived, how in God's name d'ye keep on lookin' at things the way ye do?"

And Kate almost told him. She almost told him everything, about why she was here and how it had happened. That she was carrying the child of a man who had made her believe that he loved her because that was cheaper than paying a whore. That she was carrying this child and she was terrified and lost and alone and that the only thing that kept her from screaming or curling into a ball and crying was the belief that she was headed for something better. Only at the last minute did Kate catch herself, realising how bad a mistake it would be to tell Jim all of that right then. With an effort she swallowed her secret again, feeling the unspoken words scald her throat like bile.

Closing her eyes, Kate took a deep breath and held it, vaguely aware of the fact that her hands had unconsciously linked themselves into a protective barrier across her abdomen. Flexing her fingers, trying to relax, Kate let out the air she'd been holding and opened her eyes. She couldn't tell Jim everything, not yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't still tell him the truth. "I believe because I have te," Kate said finally, "I _have_ te Jim, because if I don't then I don't know why the Hell I'm here."

Jim's face in the shadows was inscrutable, so Kate took another steadying breath and continued, "If I can't believe that things can get better then I might as well crawl into a corner an' die 'cause why would I bother with anythin' else?" There was a shudder in her voice now, and Kate could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she pushed her shoulders back defiantly and refused to cry. The look on her face was fierce as she said, "I'm not stupid Jim. I _know_ it's gonna be hard, it's gonna be damned hard. But I'm used te that, hard is what my whole damn life has been. I don't expect te step off the boat an' have ev'rythin' change, but one day it _will_ change. It _has_ to."

Kate glared up at Jim, her hands fisted again, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to hurt. Jim was looking at her as though he'd never seen her before. "I refuse te accept that this is all I'll ever be," Kate continued, the wobble in her voice more pronounced, "This can't be the rest o' my life Jim Farrell, I won't believe it, I just _won't_. An' if that makes me a fool, then fine, fine, I'm a fool."

"Oh Kate," Jim said quietly, and the tone of his voice was gentler than it had been all night, "Yer not a fool," He sighed heavily and shook his head, "Yer anythin' but."

Just like that, Kate felt all the fight go out of her. She stared at her hands where her nails had left angry red half-moons imprinted in the flesh. "Jim," she reached out and gently touched his hand, her fingers tips inexplicably cold in contrast to the warmth of his skin, "I know… I know life hasn't been very fair te either of us. But there's no reason te believe that we can't be somethin' more than what we are. Ye _know_ I believe it." She looked up at him, hesitated and then added, "And so d'you. Else ye'd not've hung around so long t'night. Ye'd have just walked away."

Jim stared at her a minute, then suddenly smiled – a wry half-grin – and rolled his eyes, "Ye do beat all Kate McGowan," he informed her.

"Aye," Kate replied with a little laugh, "So ye've said."


	18. Joined By a Single Heartbeat

**A/N:** With this chapter we finally wrap up Saturday on the _Titanic_. Which means, if you're keeping track, we're almost getting to the point where you should start to be worried...but not quite yet. ANYHOO, I'm not sure what to say about this except that it's fluffy and Jim made me cry. Because he's...you know...Jim. It bears mentioning that the next chapter might be a bit late in coming, since my show opens this week and I will basically cease to have a life as of...like...tomorrow morning. Which is alarming considering how little a life I already have. Ah well, them's the breaks. Enjoy!

Oh yes, and as always thanks must be paid to my lovlies **LC**, **Vee**, **Cookies** and **Squishy** for being the most consistantly wonderful people ever :D

* * *

Kate and Jim finally seemed to have run out of things to yell at each other. In fact, Kate was fairly certain that she'd run out of things to say, period. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Kate rocked back on her heels and looked up at the sky. It was a very clear night, and Kate thought that given enough time she could almost count the stars. Jim, obviously at as much a loss for words as Kate was, gave a light cough, drawing her attention back down to earth. He tugged the brim of his hat, gave Kate a quick, curious look and headed off towards the stern of the ship. When Jim realised that she wasn't following him, he turned back and quirked one eyebrow. Kate shook her head, bemused, and trotted to catch up.

In a silence that somehow managed to be simultaneously comfortable and awkward, the pair made their way to the furthest end of the Poop Deck so that they were standing at the very stern of the ship. Jim propped his elbows on the railing and clasped his hands lightly in front of him, staring out into the night. Kate took up a similar pose on Jim's left. For a long time nothing was said; they didn't even look at each other. Kate watched the _Titanic_ churning the sea in its wake, the wind blowing her hair around her face.

Pushing the loose curls back with one forearm, Kate leaned out over the rails and peered down into the ocean, trying to imagine the enormous propellers that were pushing them through the water. Jim tugged gently on her sleeve, "Mind ye don't fall overboard then. I don't much fancy havin' te rescue ye."

Kate made a face but obediently pulled back. Because Jim had broken the silence first, Kate felt it safe to talk again. She scooted closer to Jim so that their shoulders were almost touching and rested her chin on one fist, "So Jim Farrell," she said, "Ye never told us what _you'd_ want te be."

Jim shifted to face her, "What're ye on about now then?" He asked with a puzzled half-smile. He looked wary, as though afraid that she was about to launch into another tirade.

"When we get te America," Kate explained, tucking her hair over one shoulder to keep it out of her eyes, "What is it ye want te be?"

"Christ Kate, I dunno," Jim exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I told ye, I don't think like that."

Kate pouted, "Not fair, I told ye mine."

"Aye, me an' the whole third class," Jim replied with a laugh. He leaned back against the railings, "Lady's maid, right?"

"That's right," Kate said, prodding him in the chest, "An' ye might think it's not a good fit fer me, but that's just 'cause ye've never seen me work. Mark my words, I'll be the best damn maid on the continent, people'll be fightin' te have me."

Jim smirked, "Kate, I'm learnin' fast not te doubt much o' anythin' you say."

Kate beamed at him, then forced her expression back into something more serious, "C'mon now, ye must've thought o' somethin'," She wheedled, hands on hips, "What would ye be? An' don't say a fisherman, that's cheatin'."

"As I said, I've not really given it much thought," Jim replied, scratching under the brim of his cap. He seemed to realise that Kate wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily, and so spent a moment contemplating the question. "Ye figure I could be anythin' I want, aye?" Kate grinned and nodded, "All right then, an actor."

Kate blinked, "What?"

"Ye heard me," Jim said seriously, his solemn front betrayed by the persistent upward twitch of one corner of his mouth, "I'd be an actor. You know, in one o' them new movin' pictures like they got in the big cities now. Or maybe a poet," He continued, grinning roguishly, all pretence abandoned, "Like that Yeats fella, aye?"

"Oh well now yer just makin' fun o' me." Kate said, a mock wounded look on her face.

Jim smiled and shook his head, "Nah, I'm not. Not really." He resumed his original position at the railings and tilted his head up to watch the star-dotted sky, "Maybe I'd build things," he said, in a much different voice than he'd used previously.

Kate came up beside him, "Aye?" She said, glancing at him sideways. There was truth in this statement, unlike the first two grand proclamations, "What sort o' things?"

"All sorts," Jim replied immediately, not taking his eyes off of the sky, "Anythin' ye could imagine. I'd start small though mind, little things as people need." He flicked his gaze down to Kate for an instant, then looked away again, "I made me younger sister a table te do her lessons on once. It was a nice enough thing."

The tiny note of pride in his voice made Kate's chest ache. She swallowed hard and looked up at him, trying to keep the extent of her emotions off of her face, "That so?"

"Aye," Jim nodded. He looked at her again, as though he was deciding whether or not to tell whatever it was that was on his mind. "Ye know…I almost got into carpentry, when I was younger. I started workin' at the docks when I was eleven, see? Doin' small things, not on the boats yet. Me Da got me the job."

"He's a fisherman too, aye?" Kate asked, recalling that Jim had said something to that effect once before.

Jim nodded, "Was," he corrected her, "He went down with his boat one summer when I was 'bout sixteen. That was the same summer I almost got te learn the buildin' trade. See, from all the helpin' 'round the docks I'd got good with tools, fixin' things that was broke an' all that. Anyway, this big-shot carpenter from London, he started hangin' 'round the pier, lookin' fer boys he could hire te work cheap at his shop."

Kate bobbed her head in understanding, "An' he wanted you te work fer him?"

"More then that even, he wanted me te be his apprentice, said I had real talent," Again here the quiet gut-wrenching pride, "But the thing was he couldn't pay me, just give me room and board 'til I was trained enough te make me own way. And we could've managed all right, except that…"

"Yer father died." Kate finished quietly, "And ye couldn't afford te go."

"Aye," Jim said. He paused a moment as though remembering, "I never even told me Mam that there'd been the chance; she was grievin' enough as it was. Fer a while I wondered what might've happened if things had been different, hopin' that maybe it could still happen, but eventually I just…stopped. There wasn't any point ye see." He smiled down at Kate, his expression wistful, "But Kate, I tell ye, I could've been somethin'."

Kate wanted to cry, or throw her arms around him or both. This explained almost everything, everything about what it was that made them so different; for all that she'd had it rough, Kate knew she'd never been disappointed that way. She stared at her hands, blinking hard, "I'm sorry Jim."

Jim shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed, "Never mind," he said, clearing his throat, "But now ye know." He gave an uncomfortable-sounding laugh, "'Sides, if I'm te believe you, I might still be able te try some day. Buildin' I mean."

"Of course ye can," Kate said immediately, laying a hand on his forearm, "Jim there's no reason at all why ye couldn't."

Jim made a disbelieving sort of noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, "Kate ye'd say the same thing if I told ye I wanted te sprout wings and fly te America."

Kate accepted the teasing with a wry smile and elbowed him gently in the ribs, "Ah hah, very funny."

They lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was the noise of the waves and the light, hollow sound of the breeze that lifted Kate's hair from her shoulders and sent it fluttering gently around her face. Kate watched the stars that were spilled across the sky behind the ship, bright, unwavering and infinitely comforting in their familiarity. It was once again Jim who broke the silence.

"I've never told anyone that ye know," He said, so quietly that Kate almost missed it.

Kate looked at him in surprise, "Well then," she said with a small smile, "It's about time isn't it?" Jim gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. Kate nudged him with her elbow again, "No really, what were ye waitin' fer?" she teased, trying to mask how touched she was by his admission.

Jim shrugged, "Someone who'd understand maybe," He replied, "Someone like you."

Caught off guard by this statement, Kate stared at Jim with her mouth hanging open for a space of about three seconds before regaining control of her motor functions and dropping her gaze to her hands. Kate inspected her nails for a moment and then, without really making a conscious decision to do so, reached out across the railing and linked her fingers through his. Jim gave her a startled a look that Kate, staring fixedly at the area directly in front of her nose, caught out of the corner of her eye. Just as Kate was sure that he was going to pull away, his hand tightened around hers and he returned to his inspection of the darkness beyond the stern, leaving their hands linked across the top of the rails.

It was incredible, Kate thought, how comfortable she felt. Despite how short a period of time she'd known Jim, despite the fact that they seemed to have spent more time causing each other grief than not Kate couldn't think of a single place she'd rather have been at that moment then standing there on the deck of the _Titanic_ with Jim's fingers laced through her own. It felt right somehow, it felt like that was where she belonged. And though the thought was silly and sentimental and maybe even a little bit scary, Kate couldn't shake it. She wanted stay that way, in that crystal-clear, perfect bubble of a moment, for as long as she could.

After not nearly enough time, however, Jim shifted position pointedly, breaking Kate out of her musings. He gently, and with apparent reluctance released her hand, cool air taking the place of warm skin against her palm. "It's gotta be gettin' awful late Kate," He said, slanting a glance at her that was almost bashful, "Ye ought te get te bed."

"'S'all right, I'll stay here." Kate replied lightly, shrugging one shoulder.

Jim gave a short laugh and threw her a mildly exasperated look, "Well I was plannin' te turn in m'self," he said raising one eyebrow, "But if ye _want_ te stay up here alone, God knows I can't stop ye."

Kate felt her cheeks grow warm. She tucked a stray curl behind one ear – a fairly futile gesture considering how much of her hair had come loose – and attempted to appear nonchalant, "Oh. Well. That's another story then."

"Hmmmm," Jim said by way of reply, a knowing smile flickering across his features. He nodded towards the stairs, "C'mon then, I'll walk ye to yer cabin."

"Jim, my cabin's practically on the way te yer cabin," Kate reminded him playfully, "Ye can hardly help but walk me."

Jim made a face, "Well ye could appreciate the gesture at least," Kate laughed and Jim held out one arm, "Are ye comin' or not?"

Looking at the offered limb with some surprise, Kate hesitated for a split second then said, "Aye, I'm comin'," and looped her arm through his. "Ye get caught in the women's section of the boat an' there'll be scandal though," she added with a sly grin.

Rolling his eyes Jim said, "I'll risk it."

They made their way, arm in arm, back down to the Well Deck, then past the General Room and Smoke Room to the main staircase, chatting about pleasant nothings. Kate told him about her home in Ireland and how her father had built her a tiny loft bedroom above the kitchen when she'd turned thirteen to save her the indignity of sharing a bed with her brothers, and Jim told her about his sisters and how the second youngest Lily was the smartest person he knew, and how the middle-girl Annie was hopelessly shy and how Elizabeth and Josephine and Clara would have taken Kate on as a new best friend. It wasn't heated, meaningful talk like they usually seemed to gravitate to, but it was nice, Kate thought, it was _nice_.

Kate tried very hard not to read anything into it, ignoring with great difficulty the warmth of Jim's body, the secure feeling of his arm linked through hers and the renewed conviction that somehow, with him, she seemed to _fit_. She told herself that Jim would have behaved this way with any woman, because he was a gentleman and that's what gentlemen did. Even though a stubborn, hopeful inner voice persisted in telling her otherwise, none of Jim's behaviour had anything to do with the fact that it was her he was with. _That_ really was too much to hope for.

They seemed to arrive at Kate's cabin door in a woefully short amount of time. She wished she was roomed further astern, or down a few more levels, just so the walk might be prolonged a bit more. Still, Kate kept her face neutral, as though she wasn't the slightest bit disappointed about how quickly they had reached her room.

"Well Jim Farrell," Kate said cheerfully, reclaiming her arm with carefully concealed reluctance, "I don't know if I can thank ye fer a pleasant evenin', but I s'pose I _can_ thank ye fer an interestin' one."

"That's fer sure an' certain," Jim replied in a dry voice. He looked at her thoughtfully then added, "Though I think I could probably thank ye fer more besides."

Kate blinked, not sure what to make of the comment, and inclined her head quizzically. Jim smiled, not exactly _at_ her but more to himself, Kate thought. Then, quite unexpectedly, he reached out and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes, tucking them carefully behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek for just a fraction longer than necessary before he seemed to remember himself and pulled his hand back. Kate stared at him, completely speechless.

For an instant, Jim seemed on the verge of saying something important, but instead he just shook his head, "Well…g'night Katie."

He had never called her that before and Kate, still off-balance from the memory of his touch, was powerless to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sound of the pet name. It sounded so easy on his lips, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary in him calling her that.

She'd evidently taken too long to respond because Jim gave her a quick farewell nod said, "See ye tomorrow," and turned to walk off towards the men's dormitories.

Snapping out of her momentary stupor, Kate called, "Jim!" He turned back to her, eyebrows raised in question, "I…" Kate searched for the right words, but couldn't find them, could not even settle on what it was she wanted to say, "Never mind. G'night then."

Jim smiled at her, walking backwards a few paces to keep her in sight. Finally he turned and ambled away. Kate watched him go, feeling oddly disconcerted. Then, with a sigh and a bemused shake of her head, she let herself into the darkened room and shut the door behind her.


	19. As We Part

**A/N:** Gaaaaaaaaaah, this took sooooo loooong. I do apologise. But now my show is done so I get my life back for a few more months at least. Yay! To make up for how long this was in coming, this chapter is the longest yet, beating the former longest chapter (chapter 7, I believe. The one called "What a Remarkable Age") by roughly twenty words , lol. BECAUSE I'M SURE YOU ALL CARE. Also, the _Fortune's Winds_ word document on my computer is officially over one hundred pages long. Which actually is alarming to me. Anyhoo, here is the chapter, hope it was worth the wait :)

And, of course, I have to give my usual thanks to** LC**, **Vee **and **Cookies** for being so amazingly supportive, and encouraging. Additional thanks must go to **Heather**. Because you don't have an account I can't send a proper review reply, but I had to leave a note telling you how extraordinarily flattered I was by your review (and how extraordinarily jealous I am of the fact that you get to play Kate soon). It really and truly meant a great deal. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave me a message. :)

* * *

Sunday morning, Kate awoke with a muffled shriek, bolting upright in her bunk and scrabbling with her hands to free herself from the tangle of her sheets. Gasping for air, Kate blinked bewilderedly around at her surroundings. Gradually reality began to bleed back into her sleep-clouded vision, the confusing blur of images solidifying into something she recognised and remembered. Kate let out a huge sigh of relief and pressed her hands against her chest, feeling her wild heartbeat beginning to slow beneath her palms. A nightmare, Kate realised, she'd been having a bad dream. Grinding her knuckles into her eyes, Kate tried to recall what horror had woken her up so violently, but it was gone, cob-webs brushed away by wakefulness. Kate made a face – had there been people screaming? She couldn't be sure – and gave up on her efforts to remember the dream. It didn't mean anything anyway.

Kicking her legs free of the bed clothes, Kate glanced over the edge of her bunk and saw that her cabin was deserted. Petra and Mathilde's bunks were neatly made and their clothes, which the German girls always set out on the spare bunk before going to sleep, were gone. Kate rubbed her eyes again, wondering how late she'd slept in. It couldn't have been too long or else the other Kates would have been banging down the door by then.

Kate climbed to the floor then stood in the middle of the room for a moment with her eyes closed and one hand pressed to her belly. Her one blessing in this whole ordeal was that she had only suffered from really bad morning sickness for a couple weeks. However, Kate found that she still occasionally felt a little nauseated when she first woke up or – as she'd discovered a few days earlier – if she got overexcited or stressed. This time, luckily, the queasy feeling was momentary and it passed after only a matter of minutes.

Shaking her head, still taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth the way her mother had taught her, Kate retrieved her dressing gown and a fresh change of clothes and headed to the nearest privy to wash up. She gave herself a good scrubbing with warm water and soap, got dressed, did her hair and finally deemed herself presentable enough to head to breakfast.

Even though she no longer felt sick to her stomach, Kate still felt odd. She couldn't stop passing her hand across her lower abdomen, as thought trying to brush the feeling away. It reminded her of the fluttering she got in the pit of her stomach when she was excited or nervous; a quick surge of energy, a sensation of movement. Kate knew that she wasn't far enough along to be really feeling the baby move, but she thought that this must be the precursor to the kicking she would be sure to start feeling within the next few months. The only thing she knew for sure was that she hated it. It was too pointed a reminder.

Kate arrived at the dining saloon completely distracted. It was clear from the noise that she was quite late; nearly all the seats were filled already. Kate paused just inside the doorway, and blinked absently at the gathered crowd, as though she'd forgotten why she was there. After a moment she shook her head, forcing her thoughts out of the depths of self-pity, and began actively searching the room for her friends.

"Mornin' Kate."

Somehow Kate managed not to jump out her skin, though both hands flew to their habitual defensive position across her stomach. Shooting a wry look at Jim, who seemed to, as usual, have materialised out of nowhere, she said, "Mornin' Jim Farrell," in as even a voice as possible. Her heart was in her throat, and Kate had the uncomfortable notion that this was not merely a result of being startled. When Jim smiled in greeting, this theory seemed to be confirmed by the fact that her pulse rate immediately doubled. Between the nightmare and the baby reaffirming its presence, Kate had all but forgotten about everything that had happened the night before. Now it all came flooding back with an immediacy that alarmed her.

"Yer late t'day," Jim commented. His voice was too casual and that made Kate even more nervous. Had he been waiting for her? She wondered. And how much thought had he given last night? By the look on his face, Kate assumed it had been a fair amount.

Still, Kate figured it wouldn't do to turn into a tongue-tied idiot just because they may have potentially had a bit of a…moment, so she merely shrugged and said lightly, "Aye, I s'pose I slept in a wee bit."

Jim nodded, surveying her carefully out of the corner of his eye, "Hmmm. Yer friends're right there by the way." He pointed over the heads of the crowd towards the area Kate normally sat in.

Sure enough, Kate Mullins was bouncing up and down, waving her arms frantically at the pair of them, while Kate Murphy, looking vaguely mortified on Mullins' behalf, attempted to get the other girl to sit down and stop causing such a spectacle. Kate laughed, "Hard te miss, aren't they? Well c'mon then, 'fore Mullins hurts herself."

"So, ye slept in, did ye?" Jim said, again far too casually for Kate's liking.

"Well that, an' then I decided I ought te have a proper wash," Kate explained, twiddling the button on the cuff of her blouse self-consciously, "The lines're never bad this time o' day."

Jim nodded again, "Ye smell nice," he said, apparently without much thought because he immediately snapped his jaw closed and shot her a thoroughly disconcerted look. Kate, for her part, narrowly avoided walking straight into one of the support columns that were scattered throughout the dining hall. Pretending not to have noticed, Jim added, "Thought maybe ye had trouble fallin' asleep."

Kate had, in truth, taken triple her usual amount of time to fall asleep due almost entirely to the fact that she'd spent a good hour replaying every moment of her and Jim's conversation. Of course, she wasn't about to admit this, so Kate made a vague flapping gesture with one hand and said, "Oh no. No trouble."

"Well…that's good then," Jim replied. Awkwardness was rolling off of this whole encounter in waves; they were so pointedly avoiding the most obvious topic of conversation. Kate made a concentrated effort to ignore this.

Thankfully, they'd made it to the table occupied by Mullins and Murphy, saving them from any more forced chatter. Mullins, who was grinning from ear-to-ear, waved exuberantly at the hapless pair, "Mornin' you two!" She chirruped, "Jim, you gonna sit with us t'day then? There's room; ye can sit next te Kate," in case there was any confusion she pointed to Kate McGowan, "That one I mean."

"Well I don't s'pose he thought ye meant either of us," Murphy put in, looking up from her nearly ever-present Bible. She had a distinctly sly look on her face that Kate didn't care for in the slightest. Marking her place with her faded blue ribbon, Murphy gestured to the open seats, "Go on then, sit yerselves down."

Because they really had no other choice at that point, Jim and Kate took spots side by side in the chairs facing Mullins and Murphy. Grabbing an orange from the basket in front of her, Kate busied herself with peeling the fruit, pointedly avoiding the gazes of her friends. Both girls kept exchanging maddeningly knowing looks and sneaky grins. Kate decided she'd clearly had a negative effect on the duo because she was quite certain that neither woman had been so damned cheeky at the start of this trip. Kate could have cheerfully throttled the pair of them.

After a moment, Kate Mullins propped both elbows on the table, rested her chin on both hands and said, "So where'd ye get te last night, Kate? Ye disappeared without sayin' a word."

Kate made quite a show of peeling the rest of her orange before answering. "Went up on deck fer some air," she said in as bland a voice she could muster.

"Ah." Murphy responded with such a wicked little smile that Kate had to wonder what exactly she studied in that Bible of hers, "Ye see Mullins? She was just gettin' air."

"'Course." Mullins said, solemnly. She fixed Kate with a wide-eyed innocent look that Kate was absolutely positive she'd practiced in the mirror before coming to breakfast and added, "An' did ye have a nice time then? Gettin' air I mean?"

"Aye it was fine." Kate responded tersely, methodically shredding her orange peel into citrus-scented confetti.

"Oh I'm sure it was," Mullins replied. She slanted a look at Jim who, up until that moment, had been pretending to have found something fascinating in his mug, "What d'ye say Jim? Did Kate have a nice time?"

Jim's jaw dropped open. Kate, who had just popped an orange segment in her mouth, practically choked on her fruit and aimed a kick at Mullins under the table. She missed and hit Murphy instead, causing the dark-haired girl to yelp and nearly topple sideways off her chair.

"Oi, what was that fer?" Murphy exclaimed, righting herself and wincing.

"I was aimin' fer _her_!" Kate shot back, lobbing a piece of toast at Mullins' head and glaring at her fiercely.

The toast caught Mullins squarely in the center of her forehead, making her squawk in surprise. She grabbed Kate Murphy's arm, "Oh help, she's gonna set me on fire with her eyes," she squealed, sounding genuinely alarmed.

"Y'know," Murphy said to no one in particular, rubbing her shin, "this is gonna bruise."

Kate looked from Murphy, who was now poking experimentally at her leg, to Mullins, who's eyes were showing white all the way around, and finally to Jim, who gave Kate a thoroughly bewildered look and shrugged. She felt her furious glare falter, and then the corners of her lips began to twitch. Kate clapped a hand over her mouth, but was too late to stop the giggle that erupted from her throat. She glanced at Jim helplessly, a grin spreading across her face.

Jim, taking his cue from her look said, "Well. It _was_ a nice night."

"Oh aye, very nice," Kate agreed, attempting to match Jim's solemn expression.

Mullins, looking confused, dared to loosen her grip on Murphy's arm, "Wait…are ye sayin' ye actually _were_ t'gether then?"

"We were, aye," Jim replied, still completely deadpan, "But it was terrible borin'."

Kate nodded emphatically, "Very uneventful."

"Outright dull te be honest," Jim finished. Kate didn't dare look at him for fear that she'd break down all together; it was already nearly impossible to keep a straight face.

Mullins and Murphy were both gaping openly at them now; clearly neither had expected to have their suspicions confirmed. Mullins in particular looked completely flabbergasted, "But…but ye threw _toast_ at my head!"

That was precisely the last second that Kate could pretend to be taking the situation seriously. Burying her face in her arms, she dissolved into unrestrained laughter. Jim, glancing at her sideways, said, "I dunno what her problem is," succeeding only in making Kate laugh even harder. When she risked a look up at him, Kate saw that Jim had abandoned his innocent façade and was now grinning broadly at her, "I mean that. She's completely off her rocker this one." But by then he was laughing too, which was all it took for Kate Murphy to join in as well.

Mullins managed to hold on to her indignation for a few moments longer. "Well ye could've just _said_ ye was t'gether from the start ye know," She huffed.

"Careful," Murphy gasped around bursts of giggles, "Or she'll throw the marmalade at ye next."

Kate and Jim, leaning against each other for support, laughed even harder. In spite of herself, Mullins had broken into a sunny smile, "I could be a whole breakfast!" she chirped.

The other three howled. Mullins, unable to resist the mirth of her companions any longer, began to laugh as well, until all four of them were in a fit of near-hysterics. Kate, who was clutching her ribs with one arm and had her face hidden in the other, had forgotten entirely about the earlier stress of bad dreams and babies. Now her biggest concern was whether or not she was actually going to laugh so hard that she threw up. Before that became a truly pressing issue, the main swell of hilarity had passed, though it took nearly five minutes for anyone to calm down enough to speak.

"Oh," Murphy said, dabbing her eyes with her napkin, "Oh Lord, I am gonna miss you folks."

Kate, slightly breathless, gave her a quizzical half-grin, "What, ye plannin' on goin' somewhere?"

Murphy shook her head, "Not right this minute Miss Smarty-boots," She said with another giggle, "But I mean when we get te New York. Only three more days te wait after all."

That wiped the smile off of Kate's face. Her eyebrows knitted together, "What? Ye plannin' on gettin' off the boat an' disappearin' forever then?" She demanded.

"Oh no, 'course not," Murphy assured her hastily, "But it won't be like it is here, will it? We won't be able te see each other ev'ryday, aye?" Because Kate didn't respond to this, Murphy explained, " I gotta meet up with my folks first, get settled an' all. Surely I've told ye that? Me Auntie Eva's meetin' me at the pier; I'm stayin' with her 'til I find work."

In fact, Murphy _had_ told Kate about these plans, sometime during the first day of the voyage. But Kate had forgotten all about it. She nodded weakly, "Oh, aye I do remember ye mentionin' it maybe."

"Sure. An' Mullins has her cousins, an' I'm sure Jim'll have people waitin' fer him too." Murphy continued, glancing at Jim for confirmation.

Jim, who had been watching Kate out of the side of his vision, nodded slowly, "Friend o' me brother in law," he said with something like reluctance.

Murphy smiled as thought this proved her point, "An' you'll be meetin' yer people too Kate. So it'll diff'rent then seein' ye all the time."

"Right," Kate said, attempting a smile. Of course, she had absolutely no one meeting her at the docks. But Murphy didn't know that, couldn't know because Kate had never told her as much, preferring to let the other girls assume that she had family waiting for her. The only person who knew otherwise was Jim, and Kate could feel his gaze practically burning holes in the side of her head.

Mullins gave a large theatrical sniff, "That's so sad," she half-whimpered, "I _like_ seein' ye's ev'ry day."

"Well we'll keep in touch won't we?" Murphy said quickly, trying to stave off the wave of tears that were threatening to spill over from Mullins' now alarmingly watery blue eyes, "Make sure we're all doin' fine. An' we'll visit each other lots, isn't that right Kate?"

Kate nodded and smiled again, for Mullins' sake, "Sure we will."

Brightening considerably, Mullins said, "Well, so long as ye all promise, I s'pose that's all right."

Feeling her cheery expression starting to grow strained, Kate dropped her gaze to her plate and pretended to be concentrating very hard on spreading jam on her remaining piece of toast. She felt like an idiot. What had she been thinking? That they'd all waltz hand in hand off of the _Titanic_ and remain like that for the rest of their days? Of course the others had family and friends to go to. But Kate had pushed that fact out of her mind, had not given it a thought, had somehow assumed that because the girls were with her now, they always would be. And Jim… Kate flicked her eyes in his direction and found that he was still watching her with something like concern. Kate didn't have the faintest idea what she'd thought or hoped would come of their relationship. All she knew was that suddenly three days seemed an impossibly short amount of time. Three days seemed like no time at all.

"Well," Kate Murphy said cheerfully, taking a final sip of her tea, "I'm right stuffed, I am. Think I'll go fer a walk up on deck 'fore mass."

"I'll come too," Mullins said immediately, bouncing to her feet and grabbing an apple for the road, "Are ye gonna come Kate? I know ye got here later'n us."

Kate glanced at her half-eaten breakfast. She wasn't particularly hungry anymore. "Nah, I'll come with ye, I've had enough," She climbed out of her chair, "I'll see ye later Jim, aye?"

"Sure," Jim replied with a half-smile. Kate smiled back and headed off after her friends. Before she got far, Jim called her again, "Kate, hold on."

All three girls stopped and turned around, but the summons was clearly intended for Kate McGowan. Mullins and Murphy exchanged a glance, then shot Kate nearly identical questioning looks. Kate waved a hand at them, "Er…go on, I'll catch up." Obediently the duo trotted away, though Kate had a hunch that they weren't going to go much farther than the door to the saloon, "Somethin' ye want Jim Farrell?"

Jim gave her a strangely searching look, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, "D'ye really have no one waitin' fer ye? No one at all?"

Kate shrugged as though it was no big deal, "Ye know I don't."

"And…and yer all right with that then?" Jim asked, looking skeptical.

"Sure," Kate replied lightly, attempting a reassuring grin, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Jim pulled a wry face and nodded, "Right. Stupid question."

Kate almost wanted to take the comment back, but her pride kept her from speaking up. Instead she said almost jokingly, "But ye won't disappear on me totally will ye?" Jim gave her a surprised look, and all of a sudden Kate was terrified of how he might answer. Maybe he had no intention of keeping in touch, maybe he'd be glad to be rid of her. Afraid of this possible response, afraid to hear what he had to say, and moreover afraid of how much it seemed to mean to her, Kate cut him off before he even had a chance to open his mouth, "Ye know…nevermind. I gotta catch up with the girls, aye? I'll see ye."

She dashed away without waiting for a goodbye, a dull ache starting in her chest. Kate pressed one hand to the spot just below her breastbone, as though trying to fill a hole, an empty space that had opened up at just the thought of losing Jim. It scared her, that hollow feeling. It scared her to think that, if she got off the boat and watched Jim Farrell walk out of her life, the feeling might never go away.

As Kate had suspected, the other girls were waiting just outside the door, pretending, unsuccessfully, that they hadn't been spying on her. Kate rolled her eyes at them and gave them a bemused smirk.

"Well, what did he want?" Mullins asked keenly.

"Oh," Kate said, with a one-shouldered shrug, "Nothin' important."

Mullins looked crestfallen, "Really?" she wheedled, "Because we thought maybe he was gonna ask if ye wanted te…"

"He didn't ask anythin'," Kate said, more sharply then she'd intended. Seeing the wounded look on Mullins face, Kate attempted to lighten the mood by saying in a self-deprecating tone, "C'mon Mullins, Jim and I get along all right, but it's nothin' more then that. I doubt _I'm_ the sort o' girl he's gonna go chasin' after."

"If ye say so," Mullins said, with a toss of her blond head, "But _I_ think yer wrong." And with that, she grabbed Murphy by the arm and flounced off down the hall, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Kate in her wake.


	20. Defying All Reason

**A/N:** Hooray for an update! Herein, Jim once again acts adorable. Because he's so good at it you know. Also, point of interest, this was the very first thing I wrote from Jim's POV, back when this story was just an inkling of an idea and when I had just realised that Jim really needed to have a voice in this. It was kind of fun to read the first draft actually because both Kate and Jim have changed subtley from how they originally were, and a lot more stuff has happened that I didn't originally plan. Yay for creative processes! Anyhow, there are approximately three chapters to go before things get...um...icey? So you can maybe start worrying now :)

Enormous thanks and rib-cracking hugs once again to my dearest internet mates** LazyChestnut**, **viennacantabile**, and **xXc0okieSsNcrEamXx  
**

* * *

At the entrance to the third-class stairwell, Jim paced back and forth like an agitated animal. He'd spent the half hour since breakfast wandering aimlessly through the _Titanic_'s halls thinking over a certain pressing issue that had presented itself that morning. Eventually, Jim had ended up at the staircase and that was where he'd remained, dithering between going up on deck and going back down below to the cabins and drawing puzzled looks from his fellow steerage passengers as they passed him on their way up or down the stairs.

The problem, of course, was Kate. She was sequestered in her cabin at that moment, or at least Jim suspected that she was given that he hadn't seen her in any of the usual third-class haunts, nor did she appear to be up on deck with her friends anymore. This meant that Jim was going to have to go find her deliberately, and for some reason, he couldn't quite work up the nerve.

Jim knew perfectly well that he looked ridiculous. He cast a disgruntled look in the direction of the staircase, as though it was to blame for his behaviour. It was ludicrous to be this worked up, he thought. After all, it wasn't as though he'd never spoken to Kate alone before. But this was different; something had changed. Jim knew it and he was positive that Kate knew it too, though she'd probably pretend otherwise.

After one more lap around the room for good measure, Jim stopped and hovered for a moment on the top step. Steeling himself, he took one step down, the immediately halted, turned around and retreated back up the stairs to his starting point. Once again, Jim stood there paralysed, wringing his cap between both hands. Finally, with a disgusted-sounding noise, Jim abandoned his post entirely, jamming his now-battered hat back onto his head and striding out into the open air of the Well Deck.

Dropping into one of the teak benches that were bolted to the deck near the Third Class entrance, Jim attempted to gather his wits. He rolled a cigarette – mostly to give himself something to do with his hands – and stared up into the cloudless April sky without really seeing it. Jim's life up until then had always been a series of logical choices, of doing what was expected, when it was expected with little to no emotion involved, and certainly no surprises.

And then he'd met Kate.

Logic did not seem to apply when it came to Kate; that much seemed abundantly clear. Everything that Jim had ever been sure of ceased to make any sense at all once that damned ridiculous woman was factored into the equation. Now all his careful plans and expectations had been turned completely on their head and Jim didn't have the faintest idea how or when it had happened, only that Kate was certainly to blame.

Jim exhaled slowly, watching the expelled stream of smoke obscure the blue sky and then clear again. Cursing under his breath, he stubbed out the barely half smoked cigarette against the sole of his boot and flicked the remains into the ashtray beside the bench. Any train of thought that Jim decided to follow lead back to that moment when Murphy had reminded them all of how little time they had left together, that brief, lost expression on Kate's face. It didn't matter how long he sat there deliberating, Jim realised; he was just going to keep coming to the same conclusion. It made no difference how he looked at it, he knew he was going to have to find Kate, so Jim supposed that he might as well get that part over and done with.

As it happened, Jim didn't have to look very hard. Striding purposefully back into the entrance to steerage, Jim, quite literally, walked straight into Kate who had chosen that moment to appear from below decks. If they'd both been closer to the top of the staircase, the encounter would have likely ended with the pair taking a headlong tumble down the stairs. As it was, Jim practically sent Kate sprawling.

"Jesus!" Jim swore, holding tightly to Kate's wrists to keep her from toppling over, "Sorry Kate."

Kate glared good naturedly up at him and quirked one eyebrow, "Christ Jim, are ye not capable of sayin' hello te a body without knockin' her flyin' or scarin' her stupid first?" She pulled her hands out of Jim's grasp and rubbed her wrists, "A simple 'hello' would suffice ye know."

Jim adjusted his cap and made a face, "It's not my fault ye always seem te end up in my way," he grumbled. Kate's other eyebrow curved to match the first and she made a small bemused noise in the back of her throat, but did not otherwise respond. Jim shook his head and gestured to the arm she was still absently massaging, "Are ye all right then?"

She laughed softly, "I'll live," she assured him, letting her arm drop back to her side. Rocking back on her heels, Kate passed one hand along the waistband of her skirt, as though smoothing the material. Jim had caught her at that exact motion enough times by then that he'd decided it was an entirely unconscious gesture on Kate's part, a nervous habit perhaps. Kate eyed him curiously and Jim realised that he'd been staring. One corner of her mouth twitched, "So, where were ye off te in such a hurry?"

"I was lookin' fer you actually," Jim replied as casually as possible. Kate's eyebrows shot half way up her forehead again and Jim had to fight to keep from laughing out loud, "I…uh…I ran into the other girls an' they said they'd lost track o' ye."

Kate's eyebrows were so raised by then that they were in danger of disappearing all together, "Oh aye?" She asked in clear disbelief, "They failed te mention that when I saw 'em ten minutes ago." Jim, having absolutely no way of countering this statement, made a vague, non-specific sound and shrugged. Kate rubbed the bridge of her nose and failed spectacularly at hiding a smirk with the back of her hand. "Uh huh," she said, sounding as though she fighting back a laugh, "Well, now that ye've found me, is there anythin' else ye needed me fer?"

"Nothin' specific," Jim replied attempting to regain his air of nonchalance, "S'pose we go fer a walk then?"

The expression on Kate's face went from amusement to pure surprise so fast it was almost funny. Jim smiled at her bewilderment, wondering at how she could go from being the fierce, passionate woman he'd witnessed the night before to this unsure girl who seemed utterly baffled that anyone might take an interest in her.

"Oh…well I was goin' te mass actually…" Kate said reluctantly, fiddling absently her hair. Jim had the sudden mad urge to reach out and smooth the loose curls. He responded by shoving both his hands into his pockets.

"Really?" Jim looked her up and down in surprise, "Ye never struck me as much of a church person."

Kate grimaced slightly, "I'm not," she admitted, "I mean, I went te church me whole childhood, an' I've got no problem with God as a general rule but…" she hesitated, trying to find the right words, "But lately I prefer te keep that sort o' thing private."

Jim frowned, "Just lately? Why's that?"

"Oh…various reasons," Kate answered vaguely, refusing to meet his eye.

Deciding that it would be wise not to push the matter Jim replied, "Well we got that in common at any rate. I haven't been te proper mass in years."

Kate grinned, "Well, no time like the present fer us two heathens then aye?" She said, "I'm goin' because Kate Murphy wanted me te go, and besides, I figure we got two more days at sea an' who'm I te tempt the fates?"

"Fair point," Jim agreed, "Well, how 'bout I walk ye te the chapel then? We can stand at the back t'gether and try te get back into the Lord's good graces."

"It'll take more'n one visit te accomplish that I'm afraid," Kate said, laughing, "But ye can walk with me if ye like, sure."

Jim inclined his head in her direction, "Then it's settled," he said amiably, "C'mon." He did not offer her his arm as he had the night before. Though it had seemed the most natural thing in the world then, here in the plain light of day, Jim felt much more hesitant about what he said and how he acted around Kate. He thought it might have something to do with the way she'd looked at him during their conversation of the previous night, that blazing expression that had etched itself into his memory. Whatever the reason, they ambled along side by side, close enough to brush elbows but not actually touching. Periodically, Kate threw him funny little sideways glances that made Jim feel uncomfortably as though she was trying to read his mind. He certainly would have liked to know what _she_ was thinking. Kate's face was such a perfectly neutral mask that it was impossible to get any idea what was happening inside her head.

Not that this was anything new. Jim hardly ever had any idea what was going on inside Kate's head, even when she _didn't_ appear to be actively trying to conceal it.

When they arrived at the saloon – which was doubling as a chapel that morning - Kate peered through the window and made a face, "We're late, ev'ryone's sittin' down," she reported, "We'll be awful disruptive we go waltzin' in there now. Best wait 'til the next hymn."

Jim shrugged one shoulder, "All right." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, watching as she toyed absently with a single copper ringlet that stubbornly refused to stay tucked behind her ear. Jim wondered if she realised how often she seemed to be walking around with a shield raised, as though she was terrified that someone might find a way into her weak spots. Right then, because she was unaware that he was watching her, Kate had let her defenses slip and in that unguarded moment she looked very small, and very sad. "Kate," Jim said suddenly.

Kate jumped, startled out of her thoughts, and turned to him, "Yes?"

"I was thinkin'," Jim began, then stopped, cleared his throat and tried again, "That is, I thought, maybe, once we get te America…" He paused again, trying to ignore the baffled look Kate was giving him, "What I mean te say is, I know ye've not got anyone meetin' ye once yer there, an' ye don't really know where yer going…an' I know ye say yer fine with that. But I m'self would feel better if ye'd at least let me make sure ye get yer papers put through all right, maybe help ye find some place te stay too. If that's fine with you o'course," He added hurriedly, half-afraid to see her reaction to this sudden display of chivalry.

Kate was staring at him with an expression that Jim had never seen before. He couldn't place the emotion or meaning, he only knew that she looked absolutely thunderstruck. Jim bobbed a little on the balls of his feet, wishing she'd hurry up and say something.

After a moment, Kate shook her head and that strange unreadable expression vanished, replaced by outright disbelief, "Why Jim Farrell," she said slowly, her lips curving into a smile, "If I didn't know better, I'd say ye were offerin' te look after me."

Jim laughed, "Kate, I can't think of a person who needs lookin' after less than you." Kate folded her arms and looked as though she couldn't decide whether to be flattered or insulted. To clarify he added, "Yer the single most capable woman I've ever met."

Kate gave a funny, empty-sounding little laugh, "Well I don't know 'bout that."

"Even so," Jim went on, choosing to ignore the self-deprecating comment, "I figured – it bein' a strange country an' you bein' alone an' all – ye might want a friend nearby. Just in case," Jim shot an inquisitive look at Kate, who was staring fixedly at the approximate level of his left knee, "Besides, I've got sort of used te havin' someone talkin' me ear off ev'ry hour o' the day. I think I'd miss it."

For half a beat, Kate didn't move. Then she raised her head and absolutely beamed at him. Jim had never seen her look like that, with her face so bright it seemed lit from the inside. At that moment, he realised that there was little he wouldn't do to make her smile that way again. Kate, still glowing said, "D'ye mean it?" Jim nodded, "Then I'd like that Jim. Very much."

"Well…all right then." Jim said lamely. He had half expected her to say no, proud wee thing that she was, so the fact that she was still smiling that brilliant smile and looking as though he'd just handed her the moon had thrown Jim entirely.

"Good," Kate replied, her expression shifting into the more mischievous grin that was now so familiar to Jim, "It's a deal. Though if anyone needs lookin' after, it's bound te be you me boy-o," Kate added playfully, thrusting out one slender hand, "So what say we just keep each other outta trouble, aye? Shake on it."

Jim rolled his eyes, but never the less took the offered and hand and shook it mock formally, "Happy?"

Kate nodded and tossed her curls back over one shoulder, "Perfectly," she said. For a moment their eyes met and Jim was aware of an odd tension that seemed to stretch between them. He swallowed, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, something through the window caught Kate's eye and she turned to look through the glass, "Oh look, they're standin', we can go in now," when she looked back at him, Jim saw that she was rather pink in the face. Kate shuffled her feet uncertainly, "Ye comin'?"

Jim bobbed his head in confirmation and followed her into the room, where the first strains of "God Lift Me Up" were filtering through the little congregation. He sidled along the back wall, coming to a halt beside Kate, who was now fumbling through a hymnal trying to find the words to the song. The morning sun through the windows caught in her hair, making it blaze like flame spun into thread. The image made Jim's breath catch and he realised, with something between amazement and alarm, that he could no longer imagine a life for himself that did not somehow include this infuriating, unpredictable and vibrant young woman.

Still smiling to herself, Kate finally settled on the correct page of her book and moved closer to Jim so that he could read over her shoulder. When she realised that he'd been watching her, the smile faltered slightly, "What?" She hissed bemusedly.

Jim shrugged, "Nothin'," He said, looking at her sideways, He reached out and tucked the stray curl she'd been fighting with earlier behind her ear, "Sing the pretty hymn Katie."

Kate elbowed him in the ribs, but obediently lifted her chin and joined in with the song. Jim couldn't help but notice that she was smiling again.


	21. May Yet Last

**A/N:** Uh oh everyone, uh oh, it's Sunday night on the _Titanic_. NOT GOOD. Fortunately, though you have (including this one) three chapters before it's really really time to worry. I am hoping to get the next two chapters done before Christmas - they're written already, so it's just a matter of doing the second draft and editing. So then I can start the New Years by sinking the _Titanic_. Lucky me. ANYWAY, in this chapter Mullins and Murphy finally tell Kate what's what, Kate has an epiphany, and Jim makes a three-line cameo. Bahahah. OH, and I have to thank my dearest **LC** (and her German teacher) for helping me translate the single line of German in this entire fic -_-;;;

And of course, thanks to **LC** (again) and **Vee**, and **Cookies** for their awesome reviews. You guys make me a very happy writer :)

* * *

"Kate, are you listenin' te me?"

It was dinner hour and the dining saloon was, as usual, buzzing with the conversation of hundreds of people, the clatter of dishes and cutlery, the scrape of chairs against the floor. Kate, pushing a potato around her plate and daydreaming, barely registered any of the noise.

"Kate. Hullooooo, Kate? Kate, Kate, Kaaaaaaaaaaaate?"

"What?" Kate looked up from her food to find Mullins staring at her expectantly, "Did ye say somethin'?"

Mullins stuck out her bottom lip, "Have ye not heard a thing I've said?"

Kate thought back over the last few minutes and realised that she'd not even been aware of her friend speaking, "Um…no?" She admitted sheepishly.

Murphy laughed and Mullins shook her head, smiling in spite of herself, "Ye've been right distracted all day Kate, what's the matter with ye?" She asked, dunking a dinner roll into her soup and taking a bite.

"Nothin's the matter," Kate said with a grin, "I was just thinkin' about some…things."

"Things named Jim ye mean," Murphy muttered into her water goblet. Kate glared at her and Murphy spread her hands wide in a gesture of innocence, "What? Ye gonna try an' tell me otherwise?"

When Kate failed to respond, Mullins giggled in delight, "Ye _were_, weren't ye?"

There was no point in denying it. Kate had been ten feet above the ground since Mass, and she would have been crazy to think that her friends hadn't noticed. The fact was, Jim's offer to watch out for her after docking had made Kate happier than she could have ever predicted. Just thinking about it made her smile. Glancing sideways at where Jim was sitting with his back to their table, Kate grinned, "Perhaps," she conceded.

Mullins squeaked, "Oh, oh, Kate, what happened? Somethin' happened didn't it?" She bounced up and down in her seat, "Tell us, tell us!"

Kate felt her cheeks grow warm and she picked absently at a callous on the edge of her thumb to avoid meeting the others' eyes, "Well…I s'pose Jim felt sorta bad 'bout the trip bein' over so soon because he offered te help me find a…"

"Eeeek!" Mullins squealed causing Kate to stop talking and shoot her a disconcerted look. Mullins clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle the noise and, speaking through her fingers, asked in a high-pitched voice, "_Did he kiss you?_"

The question was enough to render Kate entirely mute, so she merely sat there staring at Mullins with her jaw hanging open and her face flaming. Murphy made an exasperated sound and bopped Mullins gently across the back of the head, "Jesus God, Almighty Kate Mullins, what kind of a question is that te spring on a body?" She demanded, making Mullins squawk in protest. Then, catching sight of Kate's crimson face, Murphy paused and added, "Wait, did he?"

"No!" Kate finally managed to sputter, "Christ what is it with the pair of ye? Jim and I…we're not….I mean, we haven't…we're just _friends_."

Mullins sighed in an extremely put-upon way and fixed Kate with a maddeningly pitying look, "Oh Kate," she said woefully, "Yer a smart girl, but sometimes ye can be awful dumb."

That was quite a statement coming from Mullins. Kate gaped at her, and then cast a bewildered glance at Murphy, "What the Hell?"

"Don't look at me," Murphy intoned, taking a dainty bite of her roast pork, "I'm stayin' outta this."

"How can ye say that you an' Jim are just friends?" Mullins pressed on, still gazing at Kate in a vaguely woebegone way, "Haven't ye _seen _the way he looks at ye?"

Kate, who had only just managed to stop gawking, felt her jaw clang open again, "Are ye completely daft? He doesn't look at me in any _way_, he just looks at me!"

Mullins sighed again and shook her head, "Well, maybe ye think that," she said consolingly, reaching out to pat Kate's hand, "But Kate Murphy an' me we know diff'rent. Jim looks at ye like yer the beginnin' of the world." At this point her pitying expression slipped and she stared dreamily off into space for a beat or two, "An' look at _you_, walkin' 'round like yer feet don't touch the floor, just on account of him offerin' te help ye in America."

"That isn't…" Kate began to protest, but then stopped short. Because that last part, at least, was true and she'd already decided that there was no point in acting otherwise. And it wasn't such a far stretch to admit that maybe, just maybe Kate thought of Jim as something just slightly more than a friend. But that didn't mean that Jim had…had _feelings_ for _her_. Did it? "Yer bein' ridiculous," She finally finished, aware of how flat the rebuke fell.

Murphy, despite her proclamation that she was having no part in the conversation, dabbed her lips with her napkin and said, as delicately as possible, "Ye do get awful defensive when we bring it up."

Kate swallowed, "That's because… that's because I don't need the pair of ye actin' like a couple o' starry-eyed, lovelorn ninnies over somethin' that's never gonna happen. An' gettin' me worked up as well," She added as an afterthought, "I can't go 'round thinkin' like that. I've had me heart broke once already, an' I don't much care fer it happenin' again, thank ye."

"Hmmmm," Mullins propped her chin on one hand and regarded Kate with a thoughtfulness that she didn't normally seem to possess, "Ye believe in all sorts of other things comin' true, why not this?"

There was nothing Kate could say to counter that. Murphy looked impressed, "Girl's got a point," she commented, "An' besides, it seems te me that Jim must care about ye, else why would he ask te look after ye?"

For some reason this made Kate smile, "D'ye think?" She asked, daring to let a tiny edge of hope creep into her voice.

"I do, I do!" Mullins chirped, bouncing in her chair again. As if to illustrate her point, Jim chose that moment to get up from his seat. He said something to his table mates and headed for the exit to the saloon. As he passed the table occupied by Kate and her friends, he nodded hello and flashed a brief warm smile at Kate. All three watched him get out of earshot before Mullins, made a triumphant noise and said, "Ye see? Like ye was the beginnin' of the world!"

"Stop that," Kate admonished, half-heartedly. She was grinning again; sure, the girls probably _were_ being ridiculous, but maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to hope that something could come of her relationship with Jim. Crazier things had happened.

Needing nothing more than the return of Kate's good mood to prompt an enthusiastic response, Mullins squealed for at least the fifth time that evening and clapped her hands together, "You two are so sweet!" She exclaimed gleefully over the laughter of her two companions "Yer gonna get married and have lots o' babies and…"

"Mullins!" Murphy barked, either because she thought that the cheery blond had finally taken things too far, or because she'd noticed the look that had suddenly appeared on Kate's face. Mullins snapped her mouth closed and stared wide-eyed between her two friends while Murphy glared daggers at her, "Have ye no sense at all? Think about what yer sayin'!"

If this was an odd comment for Murphy to make, Kate hardly registered it, distracted as she was by the feeling that her stomach had just plummeted out of her body. _Babies_. Oh God, how had she forgotten about _that_? That one all-important, all-consuming detail of her life, the one thing that anybody planning a lasting relationship of any kind with her needed to know, and the one thing that she had never told anyone. Not even Jim. Most all not Jim.

Still, Kate rallied with remarkable speed, given the way these thoughts were now parading through her head. Forcing a smile back onto her face she cast a level gaze at her friends, "What're you two gawpin' at?" she asked, doing an admirable job of sounding unruffled.

Murphy threw a pointed look at Mullins, who looked like she was about to start weeping, "Ye just…got sorta pale," Murphy said slowly, "Ev'rythin' all right?"

"Fine," Kate said, a little more loudly than she'd intended. She could tell that neither of her friends was entirely convinced, but, for once, fate seemed to be on her side because at that moment the stewards came back into the saloon and started clearing dishes for the next seating. "Guess we better shuffle off, then aye?" Kate said, pointing at the white-coated men weaving through the tables and silently thanking God for the welcome distraction.

"Sure," Murphy said, still eyeing Kate suspiciously, "Ye want te head te the general room?"

"Oh yes!" Mullins leaped on the suggestion with undisguised relief, "Maggie told me we could probably get Eugene an' the boys te play their music again."

The last place that Kate wanted to be just then was a hot, noisy, smoke-hazed general room, with its crush of bodies and chaos. Her mind was whirring with such violence that she almost felt dizzy. She needed someplace quiet, someplace where she could just _think_ for five minutes, please _God_, without someone asking if she was all right. "You two go," Kate said, "I need te go te me cabin fer…a minute."

"We'll come too," Mullins offered immediately, obviously thinking that Kate had taken ill, "In case ye need us."

"No, no, that's fine, I'm fine," Kate assured her, already backing away from the table, "Go on te the party, I'll catch ye up."

She hurried away before they could protest further. Dodging around lines of people filing in and out of the dining saloon, Kate half-ran to her cabin, berating herself the entire way. How could she have been so stupid? Sure it was all well and good to accept Jim's offer, but had she given even the slightest thought to what that meant? She hoped that they would remain close. She even hoped, somewhere in a back corner of her mind that perhaps maybe, just maybe, she and Jim might one day become more than the 'just friends' that Kate currently claimed they were. And that was all fine to hope for, except what happened in a month or two when her belly began to swell beyond where she could hide it, when she went from being Kate the skinny, spirited Irish waif to Kate, the pregnant, husbandless, two-steps above a common prostitute, pathetic excuse for a nothing? What happened then?

Kate burst into her cabin with the force of a small explosion, eliciting startled yelps from Petra and Mathilde. Petra was re-pinning her younger sister's hair and had obviously given the thick braid a surprised yank upon Kate's sudden appearance, because Mathilde was holding her head and wincing. Kate stared at them stupidly; she had expected to find the room empty.

Petra cocked her head to one side, "Kate? Was ist los?"

Not sure what her room mate had said, but catching concern in the tone of the words, Kate attempted a reassuring smile, even as she dashed across the room to retrieve her coat, "'Hullo Petra, I'm just…goin' fer a walk." Kate couldn't stay in the room now, not with the sisters there, so she threw her coat around her shoulders, and dashed back to the door, so desperate to get away from people that she didn't even bother to grab her hat or gloves.

"Kate," Petra let go of Mathilde's braid and caught Kate by the arm, "Are…are you…" she shook her head in frustration at her limited English and gestured helplessly with both hands, as though trying to sketch her meaning in the air.

Realising that something of her mental turmoil must be showing on her face, Kate understood what the other girl was trying to say. She wished that she could explain better what was wrong. Instead Kate smiled again, "I'm fine. I'm good." Petra, apparently catching her meaning nodded and smiled in a relieved sort of way. Kate patted her on the shoulder and continued out of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Kate rubbed a hand across her eyes and wondered how many people she was going to tell that same lie.


	22. No Moon

**A/N:** Ok, so I lied. I thought that I only had two chapters to get done before Christmas (this one included) but it turns out that it's going to be three. XD This is what comes from having characters who consistantly run amok on you. I just don't question them anymore. Anyway, it is once again important to note that the events of this chapter and the next come straight out of the musical - I've just vastly expanded upon it. You know, because I can :) But actually, this sequence in the show (which spans both this chapter and the next) are the reason I ended up writing this fic so, um yay for this sequence! Hoorah!

Thanks, as usual to **LazyChestnut** and **viennacantabile** for their reviews and another shout out to **Heather** - I'm so glad you're still reading and I'm glad that your show went well, that is awesome :)

**Disclaimer****:** The presence of lines from the script in this chapter leads me to remind everyone that their rightful owners are Peter Stone and Maury Yeston, not me. Because clearly if I had written this musical, it would have been the Kate and Jim show.

* * *

Walking briskly, Kate made it to the staircase quickly and she hurried up the steps to the deck. Kate realised that this was exactly what she needed – not to curl in a ball in her bunk and whimper like a lost child, but to burn off the jittery energy of her agitated mind so that she might actually be able to think clearly. It was what her mother would have told her to do were she back home.

"Walk it off Kate," Marie McGowan would say, sometimes laughing, sometimes stern, whenever her only daughter got in a state. It was her cure for everything: bad tempers, hurt feelings, anxiety, sadness. She'd turn Kate out of doors and tell her to walk until she felt calm again. Kate, in varying degrees of agreeability, would obey, pounding the dirt roads and muddy fields around her cottage sometimes for hours before returning home with mud-caked boots and a lighter spirit. It usually worked. Usually.

Here on the _Titanic_, Kate didn't have familiar roads and rain-soaked fields, but she had the ship's decks and she supposed that would just have to do. So Kate walked. Thanks to the possibility of dancing in the general room and the fact that the second dinner seating hadn't finished yet, there were very few people up on deck. It was also extremely cold, which no doubt had kept a lot of people indoors. Kate passed Dottie Sage and Lillian Goodwin, who were sitting with their heads together over a dime novel that they were likely trying to read without their parents' knowledge. Other then those two girls and a few solo stragglers here and there, Kate was virtually alone. As Kate marched by on her path to the Poop Deck, Lillian looked up and gave her a cheery wave before returning to her book.

Barely managing a smile in return, Kate took the steps two at a time, and set out on a cyclical path around the deck. Her footfalls keeping time with her heartbeat, Kate tried, _tried_ to reason through her tangled thoughts, to work out some way to solve her current predicament. She immediately realised flaw in this process: her problem wasn't coming up with a solution, her problem was that she already knew what the solution was and the prospect was terrifying. Kate thought briefly about telling Murphy and Mullins – a trial run, so to speak, because surely they would be easier to tell - and asking for their help, but she dismissed the idea. She knew exactly what advice they would give her because it was the same conclusion she'd already drawn.

Kate stopped. She'd done four laps of the deck and she knew that it was doing no good. She could walk in circles for the next three days and it wouldn't change a single damn thing. She had to tell Jim. She had to tell Jim and she didn't have the faintest idea as to how.

With a low growl of frustration, Kate aimed a kick at the lowest rung of the starboard side railings. Instead of making her feel better, all this managed to do was jam her toes painfully against the inside of her boot. With a hiss of pain, Kate half-flung herself against the rails and buried her face in both hands.

"Katherine McGowan, if ye aren't the stupidest creature on two legs, I don't know who is," Kate grumbled into the sleeves of her coat, "Made a right old mess of things now haven't ye?" she kicked the railings again – a little more carefully this time – and added for good measure, "Idiot."

As if she wasn't in enough trouble already, Kate thought, looking out over the glass-smooth water and feeling utterly wretched, she had to go and do something ridiculous like this. Letting a man work his way into her heart, was she _mad_? Had she not learned anything at all?

"Apparently not," Kate said out loud, propping her chin in her hands, "apparently yer just as dumb as ye were three months ago." Except that this felt different, far, far different from the silly infatuation that she'd once mistaken for love and Kate was a far different person from the foolish, flattered girl who'd let herself get sweet-talked into so much trouble. Despite her constant stream of self-belittlement, Kate couldn't shake the thought this thing with Jim – whatever it was – was like nothing she'd ever experienced, nothing she'd ever known.

Footsteps on the deck alerted Kate that someone was approaching. She stiffened, suspecting who it was without looking. It had to be Jim, it had to be, because who else could be so uncanny as to show up right at that very moment? It had been happening the whole voyage after all, them running into each other out of nowhere as though one had summoned the other with nothing but the power of their thoughts. This was the first time, however, that Kate was not at all pleased by the prospect of a conversation with Jim. She needed more time, desperately needed more time.

Still not looking to confirm the identity of her visitor, Kate said, "Jim Farrell, ye do have the world's most impeccable timin', ye know that?"

The footsteps halted. For an instant Kate feared that she'd guessed wrong and then Jim's voice said, "How the Hell'd ye know it was me?"

"Because it's _always_ you," Kate said peevishly, her gaze still on the black marble expanse of the ocean.

Jim wasn't dense enough to not be picking up on her mood, which was probably why he kept a good foot of space between them when he came up to the rails, "All right," he said slowly, not risking her ire by questioning her statement. What Kate did not know was that Jim had been lying on one of the benches having a smoke when she'd come up on deck, and though she hadn't seen him there, Jim had spotted her almost immediately. He'd gone to say hello but had stopped short when he realised how positively thunderous she looked. So instead, Jim had watched first with amusement, then with growing concern as Kate circled the deck over and over until finally she'd come to a stop at the railings looking so pathetically small and alone and so clearly distressed that he'd been unable to stand by doing nothing any more.

"So, any reason ye were tryin' te break yer toes against the ship then?" Jim asked finally, "Ye do know that hurts the boat far less'n it hurts you?"

Kate glowered into her crossed arms, feeling annoyed and somewhat embarrassed that he'd witnessed her show of temper, and didn't answer. Her silence had less to do with Jim's comment and much more to do with the fact that she didn't trust herself to speak. Somehow Kate felt that if she opened her mouth to say anything at all, she'd end up spilling out the entire sordid story, and that wouldn't do.

Jim was eyeing her with so much obvious worry that Kate had half a mind to burst into tears. After a moment, he made a small helpless gesture with one hand and said, "Well, if ye don't want te talk that's fine. Sure an' I can't make ye," he shrugged, "But I'll keep standin' right here if that's all right with you. 'Case ye change yer mind."

For the first time since he'd shown up, Kate looked at Jim properly. He was leaning against the railings, inspecting the moonless sky, but when he realised that she'd stopped scowling at her boots he dared to look her way again. Their eyes met and Jim offered her a hesitant smile. Kate, a sudden lump in her throat, quickly averted her gaze once more. She didn't know how he did that. Jim didn't shower her with pretty words or exorbitant praise; he didn't spend every waking moment telling her how wonderful she was. In fact, most of the time he was too busy informing her she was out of her mind or half-daft to be bothered extolling her virtues. And yet Jim could look at her and smile that way and Kate felt like the center of the universe. She wondered if he had any idea the effect he had on her. And if she told him her secret – _when_ she told him – he would never look at that way ever again. He'd want nothing to do with her. And she wouldn't blame him in the slightest.

"Ye know full well it's all right with me if ye stay," Kate said quietly, once again resting her chin on her folded hands. Jim inclined his head in her direction and went back to his contemplation of the darkness beyond the railings. Kate could sense him keeping an eye on her from the side of his vision. She wished he'd stop; it was only making her feel worse.

Kate realised, with an uncomfortable jolt somewhere in the pit of her stomach, that she was not getting out of this conversation without telling Jim the truth. She could try passing her behaviour off as severe homesickness, but Jim wouldn't buy that for a second, and besides, lying to him now would be entirely unfair. Stringing Jim along, letting him believe that she was something she wasn't would be cruel and selfish. Kate could practically hear her mother all the way back in Ireland, wagging her finger and saying, "Kate McGowan if ye care about this man ye'll tell him what he needs te know or so help ye I'll box yer ears."

And Kate _did_ care about Jim, more than she'd ever wanted or expected to. But what the Hell was she supposed to say? _So Jim, I'm absolutely crazy about ye. Also, a wee bit pregnant. Surprise!_ Kate squeezed her eyes closed and groaned inwardly. She was doomed.

"Kate," Jim said gently, startling her out of her despairing thoughts, "Ye sink any lower against those railin's an' yer gonna be on the floor." Obligingly, Kate straightened up a little bit, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her coat to keep them warm. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Jim sighed and slid a little closer to her, "So," he said, still in the same soft voice, "That's a far off look I'm seein' in yer eye Kate. What far off place is it yer lookin' at? America, or Ireland?"

A bit of both, Kate decided, pursing her lips; because what had happened in one place and what might happen in the other were directly responsible for the way she as behaving now. Kate rubbed the bridge of her nose, seeking desperately for some way to put her thoughts into words. Jim waited patiently, being careful not to seem as though he was putting any pressure on her to speak. The effort wasn't lost on Kate. She looked at him gratefully, taking in his would-be casual posture and the way that concern tightened the corners of his mouth, the line of his brow. Kate took a deep breath, held it for a count of five and let it out again. Well shite, she thought steeling herself; here goes nothin'.

"If ye must know," Kate began slowly, choosing each word carefully, "I was thinkin' about a friend o' mine. A very _dear_ friend," She paused here and glanced at Jim to see if he was listening – he was, a touch of curiosity on his face – then flicked her gaze back down to her hands, "It seems that she left home because she made a mistake," Kate had to pause again, this time because her mouth had suddenly gone very dry. She swallowed hard, "A _mistake_ that she couldn't get rid of."

It took the space of about five heartbeats for Jim to decipher her meaning. When he realised what she was telling him, the effect was immediate. His eyes widened a fraction and Kate heard him draw a quick, sharp intake of breath before he backed away from her, a good foot or two along the rails. Though she kept her face perfectly impassive, Kate felt her heart plummet somewhere into the region of her stomach.

"She… she should've been more careful," Jim managed to say, making a valiant effort to sound offhand. Kate looked at him sharply, but he did not meet her gaze.

That was it then. That was the end of it. Now he knew and was no doubt formulating some excuse to get the Hell out of there. He'd avoid her for the remainder of the voyage, and then he'd disappear from her life forever, just as Kate had feared he would. The look of shock on his face, the recoil, how could she have expected anything else? Kate closed her eyes, knowing that she couldn't bear to watch him leave, and waited for him to go. And waited. A minute passed, then two, and still there were no sounds of retreating footsteps, no sounds whatsoever.

Opening her eyes, Kate frowned and cast a surreptitious glance at Jim. The poor man looked about as uncomfortable as she'd ever seen another human being look, that was certain. But he wasn't leaving. Kate stared, half afraid she was seeing things. She picked at a stray thread on her cuff and waited some more, shifting her weight from foot to foot to ward off the cold. Still he did not leave. In fact, if Kate was not entirely out of her mind, he seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

Completely thrown by this turn of events, Kate shot the darkness a bewildered look and tried to regroup her scattered wits. She had been so prepared for Jim to run screaming from her presence that the possibility that he might do otherwise had seemed to her nothing more than a wisp-thin thread of foolish hope. But maybe, just maybe she'd underestimated him.

_All right Jim_, Kate thought, feeling her lost hope spark again, somewhere deep in her chest; _surprise me._


	23. We'll Be Complete

**A/N:** TWO UPDATES IN TWO DAYS, FEAR MY POWERS OF PRODUCTIVITY. Actually, I totally cheated - this was already written for the most part yesterday, before it got spliced in two to prevent a fifteen page chapter. BUT YAY! Just...don't get used to this kind of speediness; it may never happen again. XD But anyway, here's the conclusion of the last chapter's events. Again, this is straight out of the show, though, as I mentioned previously VASTLY expanded upon, lol. When you see what happens, you'll see why I ended up decideding to write a twenty plus chapter backstory, heh.

Also, I want to formally dedicate this chapter to my favourite girls, **LC**, **Vee** and **Cookies**, not only for being the most fabulous support system of writer/reviewers ever, but also because I'm fairly certain that they've all been waiting for this since approximately chapter fifteen. XD. Hope it doesn't disappoint ladies!

**Disclaimer Part Deux:** _Titanic: A New Musical_ lyrics and libretto are still the property of Maury Yeston and Peter Stone, not me, because between yesterday and today I somehow wasn't able to swing a change in ownership. Go figure.

* * *

Kate still could not quite believe that Jim had yet to give any indication that he was looking for a way to escape. As she stared in utter disbelief, it occurred to her that she might be taking too long to respond. There might be a window of opportunity in these situations, one that she was going to lose if she stood there with her jaw hanging open much longer. Kate chewed her lower a lip for a moment then tentatively slid a little closer to him. When this small movement did not cause him to recoil in disgust, Kate moved closer still, so that they were almost elbow to elbow. This time Jim gave her a startled glance, but when Kate met his eyes, she could have sworn that a tiny smile flickered across his face.

Emboldened by this reaction, Kate said, "So… if my friend were here instead o' me Jim, what would ye say te her?"

Jim made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded almost amused and tugged at the peak of his cap, "Well…" He said carefully, apparently deciding to play along, "I'd say…" Jim paused, turning to face Kate properly, "What would I call her then?"

"We're all named Kate," Kate deadpanned back at him, somehow managing to conceal the fact that her heart – previously sitting somewhere near her toes – had just leaped into the back of her throat, "You know that."

"Of course. Silly me," Jim said with a dry twist of is mouth. He shrugged and leaned one elbow against the railings, "So I'd say '_Kate_'," He raised one eyebrow, "D'ye know who the father is?"

Kate turned a shade of red to match her hair and backed a full three feet away from him, looking as though she couldn't decide whether to burst into tears or punch him in the nose. She was far too mortified to notice the look of pure dismay that crossed Jim's face for an instant at her reaction.

"What a sad question!" Kate spat, positively bristling, "What d'ye take her for?" Glaring furiously into her crossed arms she added in a grumble, "'Course she knows who the bloody father is."

Wincing, Jim took a tentative step towards her, as though afraid she might somehow cause him to burst into flame, "And he wouldn't go with her?" He asked gently. Kate turned her glare on him then, but it was less forceful then it had been before. Behind that fierce indignant pride, Jim could see an unmistakeable quantity of hurt reflecting in her furious gaze, a deep wound that had been festering there for some time. Jim wondered what kind of complete idiot could have a girl like Kate and give her up, especially if it meant being the cause of such obvious pain. Jim sighed and moved back to her side, still not quite close enough to touch, "She shouldn't feel too badly ye know. Decent work bein' so hard te find, he prob'ly didn't want te leave his job."

Kate heaved a sigh and looked not the slightest bit comforted. She gave a tiny shrug of one shoulder, "Or his wife," she admitted quietly. She practically heard Jim's jaw clang open. Kate met his stare for a moment, then looked away. Jim likewise dropped his gaze to his hands. Kate took a deep breath and rallied herself to ask her next question, "So tell me Jim Farrell," she said in a forced bright tone, as though this wasn't the most important thing she had ever asked another living person, "Could a decent fella care for a woman who already had a bit of a family?"

Jim considered this for a long while, so long that Kate thought she might shake him if he didn't speak up soon, "Well," he replied finally, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair, "That'd depend on a few things I reckon."

Feigning mild interest when in reality she had her hands clasped so tightly that she was losing feeling in her fingers, Kate said, "Aye? What sort of things'd that be then?"

Jim shrugged and tugged back on his cap, "It's a big thing askin' a man te help in raisin' a child that weren't his. Decent fella or no, there's plenty as'd want no part of it,"

For the second time that night, Kate felt her heart drop. She swallowed hard and nodded, but did not think that she could make a reply. Jim, however, was not done talking.

"See, yer askin' the wrong question," He said, spinning around to face her again, "What ye ought te be askin' is whether or not the bloke cared about the woman 'fore he found out she was pregnant,"

Kate stopped breathing, "That'd make a difference would it?"

" 'Course t'would," Jim said, seemingly oblivious to the degree of torture he was putting her through, "Man cares enough about a woman, he's not gonna let her go so easy," he paused and gave Kate a maddeningly inscrutable look, "For the right girl – a real special sort ye mind – a man'd do pretty well anythin' te keep from losin' her."

"Is that so?" Kate said dumbly. She could not for the life of her tell whether this was Jim's way of telling her that he _did_ feel like that, or if he was trying to explain just why he _didn't_.

"It is, aye," Jim replied blandly, still giving her no hint one way or the other.

Kate sighed and looked crestfallen, "Well my…friend…isn't really that sort of a girl," she slouched against the rails, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, "Fairly common actually,"

Once again, Kate missed the look that crossed Jim's face at her words. He pressed the knuckles of one hand against his forehead and shook his head in a helpless sort of way. Jim didn't know how to make his meaning more clear; he was as new to this kind of situation as Kate was.

He decided to try a different approach. Noticing how she was hunched against the chill in the air, Jim took a blind stab at redirecting the conversation, "Are ye cold then Katie?"

Kate threw him a sideways look, registering the use of the pet name. If he was going to keep her guessing like this, than damned if she was going to stand idly by and not test him right back. Shrugging one shoulder she replied, "Not now that ye've got yer arm around me."

That stymied him. Looking utterly perplexed, Jim cast a glance around the deck as if checking to make sure that she was, if fact, talking to him, "But I don't have my…" He stopped short as realisation sunk in. Kate twitched one eyebrow. Jim chuckled and shook his head, then to her amusement and secret delight, he obediently went to her side and looped and arm around her shoulders, "Yer a funny one Kate McGowan,"

He'd called her worse, but Kate still made a face, "Oh _funny_, thanks very much," she grumbled, even though she was far more amused than she was insulted. Any miniscule insult she did feel at the comment didn't prevent her from snuggling closer into his comforting warmth, nor did it diminish the way that her heart was currently attempting to pound its way straight out of her body.

Jim laughed, "Don't act like ye haven't heard it before," Kate glared at him good-naturedly, "Yer not like other girls and ye know it."

Kate raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I'm not?"

"No," Jim replied simply, "Because ye come right out with what ye want."

"And ye find that funny do ye?" Kate asked, shifting to look at him better, "What kind of girl d'ye think I am? D'ye think I need te be told what I want?" She swatted him playfully, "Life's too short for that, me boy-o,"

"Yer right o'course," Jim said. He pulled her a little closer – Kate promptly stopped breathing again – and took one of her hands in his, "Christ Kate, yer half-froze,"

Kate actually felt as though her entire body was on fire from tip to toe, but she wasn't about to say that out loud, "Well it's bloody damn cold out if ye've not noticed,"

If Jim was considering commenting on the fact that she was up on deck without her gloves or hat on, he restrained himself. Instead, Jim asked, "So…this friend of yers. She have a bloke in mind then?"

"Aye, she does," Kate said slowly, not daring to meet his eyes. She contented herself by staring at the wood grain in the deck panels until she went cross-eyed, "But I don't think he cares about her as… as ye say he ought to,"

She felt, rather than saw Jim shake his head, "Oh ye don't do ye?" He said, sounding oddly frustrated.

Still not looking at him, Kate shrugged, "Oh he's fond of her an' all, maybe a bit more than fond even. But I don't think he cares…like that."

"Well. Then for once in yer life, yer wrong,"

It was the tone of his voice more than the words that finally got Kate to lift her head. When she saw the look on Jim's face, any response she might have made, any witty rejoinder, any ability to form coherent speech whatsoever to be honest, withered and died on her lips. Never in her entire life had anyone looked at Kate the way Jim was looking at her then. The effect was to render her, not only speechless, but completely immobile as well, as though every synapse in her brain had started misfiring at once.

Fortunately, this seemed to be a brilliant stroke of luck for Jim who, taking advantage of Kate's rare moment of stunned silence, tilted her face up to his and gently, very gently pressed his lips to hers. As kisses went, there was nothing particularly spectacular about this one. It was light and soft and over quickly, certainly not the passionate, lingering, romance novel kiss that young girls giggled about with their friends. Except, Kate thought, that it was Jim. Jim kissing her and Jim looking at her like that, and so far as Kate was concerned that made it extraordinary.

They broke apart after scant seconds and the freezing air rushed to fill the gap between their bodies. Kate, after waiting a couple of beats for her lungs to start working properly, gasped, "I s'pose it's possible that I was mistaken,"

The corners of Jim's mouth twitched. Their faces were still very close together; Kate could make out individual eyelashes, the faint lines of humour around his eyes, "You s'pose?" Jim repeated, absently tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb.

Kate swallowed and tried to appear unruffled by his proximity and his touch, "Aye, I do," she managed to say, her voice pitched just slightly higher than normal, "It does happen y'know. Very occasionally mind, but still…"

"Kate?" Jim's hand had slipped under her hair to the back of her neck, hot and cool all at once, "Have I ever told ye that ye talk too much?"

"Ye've maybe mentioned it once or twice," Kate admitted weakly.

"Mmmhmm," was Jim's only reply before he'd once again covered her mouth with his. It was a longer kiss this time, and deeper, and Kate, slightly over the shock of the first one, felt her body respond in kind. Her hands, previously hanging limply at her sides, travelled up his chest to link themselves behind his head, and she leaned closely into the warmth of his body. Then, out of nowhere, a terrible thought occurred to her and she broke away.

"Wait," Kate said, distinctly breathless, "Jim, ye do understand what it is I've been tellin' ye all night, right?"

Jim looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, "I'm…pretty sure I caught yer meanin', aye."

Kate couldn't seem to reconcile this thought, "But…then…why're ye…are ye bloody insane?" she demanded.

"Ah, right," Jim smirked and shook his head, "Kate, d'ye remember a few days back me tellin' ye that I was gonna find out what was botherin' ye?" Kate nodded slowly, "Good. D'ye also happen te remember me tellin' ye that I wasn't gonna care what it was?"

Kate stared. She stared for a full minute before something very close to a sob erupted from her throat and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the collar of his coat. Jim, though rightly startled, put his arms around her and held her there for several minutes, "Oh Jim," Kate whispered, when she found she could speak again, "Thank you thank you thank you."

Jim gently pried her off of him and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, right at the edge of her hairline, "Sure," he said with a little smile. Kate could have quite happily fainted. She settled for grinning somewhat stupidly at her boots.

Tucking herself back under Jim's arm, Kate allowed him to steer her back to the railings, where they spent a few moments staring out at the water in contented silence. Finally, Jim shifted and took both of her small cold hands in his larger warm ones, "So Kate McGowan," he said, blowing on her fingers to warm them up, "What shocking and immodest thing are ye gonna say te me next then?"

With absolutely zero thought, with not even the slightest pause, what Kate blurted was, "I'm gonna say, 'Jim Farrell, will ye marry me'?"

The mood shift was so dramatic that it might have been funny in any other situation. Jim leaped away from Kate with such force that he almost tripped over himself. Kate, on the other hand froze in place with her eyes widened to twice their normal size wondering what the hell had just possessed her to say something so absurd.

"For the love o' God Kate!" Jim burst out, positively goggling at her, "I know it's the New World we're headin' to, but we haven't got there yet! Don't ye leave nothin' for the man te say?"

Of the many emotions vying for supremacy in Kate's body just then, something along the lines of indignant anger was the one that won out. Though she knew she was scarlet from neck to hairline, she drew herself up to her full height "He can say yes!" Kate exclaimed, surprising herself again. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that that was precisely what she wanted, absurd or otherwise.

When Jim made no response other than to continue staring at her as though she'd sprouted an extra head, Kate deflated a little. She spun away from him, grasping the top of the railing in white-knuckled hands. "We're gonna need each other when we get there me boy-o," Kate said around the catch in her throat, "and…and me baby's gonna need a da'," she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Jim react to the fact that this was the first time she's actually said the word "baby" out loud. Kate took a deep breath, "So we'd better settle it right now." Whirling back on him, she summoned every ounce of indignation and pride she had left and demanded, "Will ye say yes then?" slamming her open palm against the top of the railing.

"Well I might as well!" Jim shot back immediately, giving the railing his own slap just to drive the point home, "I don't s'pose you'd _take_ a no anyway!"

Kate stopped dead in her tracks. Surely she had not just heard that correctly. She was hallucinating or hearing things. Jim Farrell could not possibly have just agreed to marry her. To _marry_ her! Kate opened her mouth, closed it, tried again, "What?" she breathed.

Jim gave her a look that was almost irritated, "Ye heard me," he said shortly. Then he seemed to actually register the way she was gaping at him because a slow, bemused smile crept across his face. Kate, seeing this, felt something give way inside her and one hand fluttered to her mouth, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. Joy as she had never known before was crashing over her like wave, making her feel weightless, full of light.

Still looking as though he wasn't entirely sure what the hell he'd just done, Jim tugged at the peak of his cap and said, "Well Kate, aren't ye gonna throw me down an' kiss me?"

Kate did him one better. She shrieked – actually screamed loud enough that a patrolling officer on the first class promenade stopped and looked around in alarm – and flung herself across the three feet of space between them with enough force to send them both sprawling. This time though, Jim was ready for her and instead of falling over on impact, he lifted her clear off the deck and swung her around in one joyous circle while both of them laughed like delirious fools.

"Yer absolutely out of yer mind Jim Farrell," Kate gasped, when he put her down. Her feet touched the floor in only the most literal sense; she felt like she was a hundred feet in the air. She cupped Jim's face in both hand kissed him hard and fast, relishing the fact that she was free to do so, "Completely, totally out of yer mind."

"Probably," Jim agreed, "But d'ye know? I'm startin' te think I'm all right with that."


	24. Love Newly Found

**A/N:** Oh wow, this took an inexcuseably long time to post. Really, I'd intended to have this up before Christmas, but I guess because I'd left the story in such a comfortable place, I just got a tad lazy. My bad. Of course, I could also use the excuse that I'm really not looking forward to the next few chapters. Well...I _am_ actually, but I'm also dreading it because...well...just because. ANYHOO, here's one last chapter to wrap up Sunday on Ye Oulde _Titanic_, and yes, now you should be worried. Very, very worried. But in the meantime, enjoy some fluff 'cause it's pretty much the last you'll be getting. Eh heh. Don't blame me, blame history.

Thanks as as always to those who read and reviewed the last chapter! Reviews make me squeal with glee, much in the manner of Kate Mullins. No really, they do.

* * *

Kate wasn't sure how long she planned on standing there on the deck in the freezing cold, clinging to Jim for balance like a drunken fool with a dopey smile plastered across her face, but she certainly wasn't in any hurry to go elsewhere. Here was something they didn't tell you in stories, Kate reflected rather giddily; after the grand proposal the newly engaged couple spent the next five minutes staring at each other and grinning like idiots.

Actually, if she was being perfectly honest, Kate felt absurdly afraid that if she made any sudden movements, the whole scene would dissolve, turn out to be a particularly vivid dream. She had never expected a happy ending, at least, not one like this. She was so happy it scared her a little.

Jim touched her cheek with the back of one hand, "What're ye thinkin' Katie?"

Kate laughed, a residual bit of bewilderment clinging to the sound, and shook her head, "I'm thinkin' that maybe I'm dreamin'," She replied with a lopsided grin, even though she didn't think her imagination could conjure up the way her skin flamed where he touched her, or the shiver that travelled the length of her spine and had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

"Oh aye?" Jim said, beaming at her. Kate had not been previously aware that Jim was capable of beaming at anyone, but he'd proved her wrong so often already that this discovery was hardly surprising. "And is there anyway I can convince ye that yer not?" He asked, twining his fingers through her hair.

Arching one eyebrow, Kate said, "Oh, I s'pose I could think of a way or two,"

"I s'pose ye could," Jim agreed solemnly, leaning in a little closer.

There was hardly a hair's breadth between them when the moment was effectively broken by all hundred and twenty some-odd pounds of Kate Mullins coming hurtling at them from out of the shadows. She flung her arms around the hapless pair and promptly put to rest all of Kate's fears of this being a dream by squeezing her so hard that her ribs creaked. Mullins seemed to have lost all powers of coherent speech and so settled for squealing gleefully at them, jumping up and down, and then bursting into tears.

From a few feet away Kate Murphy intoned, "Yer lucky I was able te hold her back that long," she ambled up to the group, trying to keep from grinning and failing miserably, "She'd had her way she'd've jumped on the pair o' ye ten minutes ago."

"Christ, how long've ye been hidin' there?" Kate asked bemusedly, attempting to pry a now openly weeping Mullins off of her neck.

"Dunno. Not terrible long," Murphy said with a shrug and a sly grin "Enough time te hear ye pop the question though,"

"Ah," Kate said weakly, as Mullins gave a fresh wail that sounded like a cross between a shriek of joy and a sob, "Oi, Kate Mullins, get a hold of yerself, yer soakin' me blouse!"

"Sorry!" Mullins squeaked, relinquishing her choke hold on Kate and sniffing theatrically, "I'm just so happy fer you two!"

"Oh is that what's wrong with ye then?" Jim said, looking as though he couldn't decided whether to be amused or terrified, "I thought maybe ye were havin' some sort of fit,"

Kate couldn't help herself; she took one look at Jim's face and started to laugh. At that point it was impossible to react any other way, especially given how Mullins was still bouncing from Kate to Jim and back again as though someone had spring-loaded her boots. When she heard Kate laughing and caught sight of Jim's bemused expression, Mullins stopped flitting back and forth and looked sheepish, "Sorry, sorry," she repeated, "It's just…I can't help it; I'm so terrible excited."

Giggling helplessly, Kate grabbed her exuberant friend by both hands and said, "Don't ever change Kate Mullins, we love ye just as ye are,"

Mullins beamed and threw her arms around Kate again, "Oh I'm glad," She said earnestly. She let go of Kate, bounded over to give Jim another hug, and then grabbed Kate Murphy and embraced her as well, just for good measure, "You three are the greatest friends a girl could ever want. An' I'm so glad that the two of ye are gonna get married, it's just _grand_."

"Can't say as I disagree," Jim said with a casual shrug, and a little sideways smile that made Kate's heart jump.

"_I_ knew ye liked her more'n just as friends," Mullins said dreamily, "But Kate didn't believe me."

Jim raised an eyebrow, "Oh, didn't she?" He asked, just a touch smugly.

Kate spread her hands wide and shrugged, "She stands corrected."

This comment was greeted by laughter, and some more jumping up and down from Mullins, who then launched into a lengthy tangent about how she'd always had a sixth sense about these sorts of things, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of the time she'd guessed that her cousin was in love with the butcher. Kate watched this enthusiastic telling with a sort of helpless bewilderment until Kate Murphy sidled up next to her.

"So…" Murphy said in a low voice as Mullins chattered on obliviously, "Are ye happy?"

Kate looked at the dark-haired girl in surprise, "Sure I am," she replied with a smile, "This is… well…this is more'n I ever dreamed."

Murphy nodded, a strange knowing look in her eyes, as though she was privy to some unspoken secret, "I s'pose it is. Things're gonna work out just fine fer ye now aren't they?"

"I think so?" Kate said, her puzzlement at Murphy's expression turning the statement into more of a question. She tilted her head to one side and observed her friend for a moment, trying to read her eyes, "Kate Murphy, what're ye thinkin'?"

"Nothin'," Murphy said quickly. She gazed at Kate for a long while, that same thoughtful look on her face. Kate had the distinct feeling that Murphy had something important to say and that she was toying with how to say it. Finally she blinked and shook her head, "Ye know, I'm awful glad fer ye," Murphy said, smiling in a way that was almost shy, "I don't flounce around cryin' like Mullins, but I'm still awful glad."

Kate was touched. She grabbed one of Murphy's hands in both of her own and gave it a squeeze, "Thank ye."

"Sure," Murphy said, looking playful once more, "An' we better be invited te the weddin'."

Mullins – who had just concluded her story with a triumphant "and after they cleaned all the mud outta the bed, they were happier'n anyone I ever saw!" – overheard this statement and promptly forgot about whatever point it was she'd been trying to make and bounded over to Kate, "Ooooh, are we?" She asked, her voice an excited chirp.

Kate laughed, "Of course! We wouldn't dream of gettin' married without the two o' ye there. Isn't that right Jim?"

Jim, looking a little shell-shocked in the aftermath of Mullins' tale, managed a crooked smile, "Sounds fine te me."

"Oh it'll be the most beautiful weddin' ever," Mullins breathed. She looked so rapturous that Kate didn't have the heart to tell her that the ceremony was likely to be rather on the small side. Of course, Kate mused, Mullins would probably think it was beautiful no matter _what_ kind of a ceremony they had. "I'm gonna make ye the nicest weddin' present too, somethin' real pretty," Mullins continued, beaming as no human had ever beamed before. She crept up close to Kate and added in a stage whisper, "Ye can wear it on the _weddin' night_."

Kate turned violently crimson and inhaled so sharply that she started to choke. Jim pretended not have heard. Murphy, for her part, clapped one hand over her mouth and looked properly scandalised "And on that charmin' note, I think it's best I get this one out o' yer hair 'fore she does permanent damage," she said shaking her head.

"Maybe that's a good idea," Kate said, still rather pink in the face, but starting to grin now.

Murphy nodded, and then did a very un-Murphy like thing: she wrapped her arms around Kate and gave her a quick, hard hug, then did the same to Jim, "G'night you two," she said, with another sheepish smile. Kate was so surprised that she didn't know how to respond. Murphy grabbed a happily oblivious Kate Mullins and began to tug her towards the stairs, "C'mon Kate Mullins, let's leave the lovebirds be, aye?"

Mullins pouted a little, but followed Murphy gamely enough, "All right," she agreed, "Night Kate! Night Jim! We'll talk tomorrow!"

Kate and Jim both waved good bye and watched them disappear down the stairs in silence. After a beat, Jim said, "Why is it I come out o' ev'ry conversation with Kate Mullins feelin' like I've gone through a clothes wringer?"

Kate giggled and leaned against him. Jim immediately snugged one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Apparently she's excited," Kate said, with a mischievous grin.

"Ye don't say?" Jim replied, smirking. Kate laughed softly and rested her head against his shoulder. Jim planted a light kiss in her curls, and spent a moment brushing his fingers through the loose part of her hair. "Kate…have ye told them yet?"

"Told them what?" Kate asked, too distracted by how content she was to follow his train of thought. She glanced up at him and he twitched one eyebrow. The penny dropped, "Oh… ye mean about the…" She ran one hand over her stomach. Jim nodded and looked vaguely amused, "No, not yet."

This seemed to come as a surprise to Jim. He frowned a little, "Don't ye think ye ought te?" He asked gently.

Kate sighed, "Aye. An' I will, tomorrow. Somethin' te look forward to," She flashed him a wry little smile, "Though, compared te tellin' you, it'll be plain easy,"

Jim returned the smile, "They'll be fine. Hell, Mullins'll prob'ly start cryin' again an' ask ye te name it after her."

"Almost certainly," Kate agreed gratefully. She chewed her lower lip, "Ye don't think it'll scare 'em off?"

"'Course not," Jim said firmly, "Didn't scare me off, did it?"

Kate grinned in spite of herself and turned to face him, "No," she said, standing on tip toe and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "I guess not,"

"It'll be fine," Jim repeated, "They'll take it in, give it some thought an' go right back te plannin' the weddin'," He flashed Kate a bemused smile and she laughed. "Speakin' of which…" Jim added, with an undercurrent of hesitation, "When d'ye reckon the weddin's gonna have te be?"

"Hmmm," Kate gave Jim a tight smile, 'That yer way o' askin' me how far along I am?"

Jim looked sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, "Well," he said carefully, "Figure I ought te know, aye?"

In spite of herself, Kate huffed a small laugh, "I s'pose so," she agreed. She shrugged, wandered over to one of the benches and perched on the edge of the seat, "Three months, just about. So we don't have te go lookin' fer a church the second we walk off the boat or nothin'."

"No," Jim said, taking a seat beside her, "But sooner rather'n later, aye?"

"Aye," Kate replied. For the first time in a while, she noticed how cold it was; her breath was pluming in front of her with every word. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, "Jim…what're ye gonna tell yer fam'ly? 'Bout me?"

Jim considered this for a moment. By the way his eyebrows had knitted together, Kate got the impression that this thought hadn't occurred to him yet. After a minute or two, he said, "S'pose we worry 'bout that some other time?" Kate sighed and nodded, twining her fingers together fretfully. Jim noticed this and took her hands, stopping the anxious movement. "Doesn't matter what they think anyhow," he added, with a smile.

"Sure, ye say that now," Kate replied gloomily, snuggling a bit closer to Jim on the bench, "because they haven't found out yer marryin' a pregnant hussy yet."

"I say that," Jim said sharply, "'cause it's true. An' don't ye go thinkin' otherwise Kate McGowan." Kate looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. She grinned and rested her head on his shoulder. "Honestly, at the moment, I'm more worried 'bout gettin' ye back below 'fore ye freeze te death."

Kate pouted; she didn't want the night to end, not in the slightest. Still, she could hardly argue about the temperature, which seemed to have dropped several degrees in only the last few minutes. Even sitting as close to Jim as she was, his body heat could no longer even begin to cut the chill in the air. "'Tis awful cold isn't it?" Kate said reluctantly, "Guess I ought te let ye walk me te me cabin. But let's walk slow, aye?"

"I can manage that," Jim said solicitously. He stood up, offered Kate a hand, which she used to pull herself to her feet, and then put his arm around her shoulders. They walked the whole way like that, with Kate tucked securely against the side of Jim's body. They didn't talk – there was nothing that either of them needed to say – just enjoyed being close to each other. Kate felt as though everything had suddenly tumbled into place; Jim was the piece of herself that she hadn't even realised was missing. She felt whole, and safe, and utterly, rapturously happy.

At the door to Kate's cabin, they both stopped and looked at each other, momentarily at a loss for words. Feeling Jim's bemused expression mirrored on her own face, Kate almost laughed. She supposed they were both thinking the same thing: after a night like the one they'd just had, how was a simple 'good night' supposed to suffice?

"So…we're engaged now, isn't that somethin'?" Jim finally said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

At this Kate did laugh, "The world is a strange an' marvellous place," she agreed. She felt her grin slip a little and she shook her head slowly, "Part o' me still can hardly believe it. Ye did mean it, didn't ye?"

Jim cupped her face in both hands, tilting her chin up so that he could look her in the eye, "Ev'ry word," he said seriously, resting his forehead against hers, "I promise ye that Katie,"

Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry, "All right then," she said, once she was sure she had control of her voice. She touched his cheek with the back of one hand, "G'night Jim Farrell,"

He kissed her one more time, just long enough to ensure that her legs turned to rubber and smiled, "G'night. See ye in the mornin'."

Kate watched him go, leaning heavily against the door frame for balance. She remained there for a few minutes after Jim was out of sight, smiling dreamily to herself. After a while she let herself into the darkened room, moving quietly so as not to wake Petra and Mathilde. Kate thought she would likely just lie in bed awake until morning; her mind and body were thrumming so vigorously she couldn't imagine being able to fall asleep. If she did sleep however, Kate decided as she changed into her nightdress, her dreams were bound to be very sweet indeed. How could they not be when she had so much to look forward to?


	25. Wake Up, Wake Up

**A/N:** OH NOES. Really, I'm tempted to just leave that as my author's note, because what the heck else is there to say at this point? I will say that these next few chapters were very hard to write, not because they actually gave me difficulty, but because...well, writing about a tragedy like this is never exactly _easy_, is it? Plus, I'm incredibly attached to these characters now. Also, word of warning to any _Titanic_ and/or history buffs in my readership (lol) if you spot a historical inaccuracy anywhere, rest assured that I most likely am aware of it too and have included it to fit the way things happen in the musical. By necessity things had to be altered for the stage (like, for example, how quickly Men could get to the Women's cabins down in third class). If you're really curious as to why something changed, feel free to ask - I probably know :)

Thanks as always to my girls **LC **and **Vee** for their continued support and enthusiasm for this Epic. XD. You guys rock the universe.

* * *

What woke Kate was not a pleasant dream or the stirrings of her cabin mates. What woke her was a sound, a sound like nothing she had ever heard before. It was a horrible noise; a crunching, scraping, grinding cacophony that reverberated through the cabin like Armageddon.

Kate lurched upright in bed, narrowly avoiding knocking herself unconscious on the cabin ceiling. She had been asleep for maybe half an hour, and was so disoriented by this sudden jolt into wakefulness that for an instant she wondered if she'd imagined hearing anything. But no, Kate could see Mathilde sitting up in the opposite bunk as well, a tense, dark silhouette against the white wall.

Kicking her legs free of the tangled bed sheets, Kate half-climbed, half-fell down the ladder from her bunk. She plucked her threadbare dressing gown from its place on the wall hooks and threw it around her shoulders. The terrible noise had stopped, replaced by a silence that made Kate's ears ring. Where was the ever-present hum of the engines, the constant sounds of gears and pistons and parting ocean? Kate threw open the cabin door and burst into the hallway.

All up and down the corridor, doors were opening and bleary-eyed women were peeking out into the hall. Questions and exclamations in every language imaginable echoed through the eerily quiet air. The door across the hall from Kate's opened and Kate Murphy appeared, dressed only in her heavy flannel nightgown and looking more tousled than Kate had ever seen her.

"What is it?" Murphy exclaimed, hurrying to Kate's side. Both hands were clasped against her chest and she was shivering, "What's goin' on?"

Kate wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her body and shook her head, "I don't know," she scanned the rapidly filling hallway for any sign of a crewman or steward. A few men were beginning to appear on the scene, having made their way from the forward dormitories to search for the women they were travelling with. "There was that horrible scrapin' noise and then we just stopped,"

"What?" Murphy laid one hand against the wall, seeking the familiar rumble of the ship vibrating through the wood panels, "Holy God, yer right!" She gave Kate a wide-eyed look, "What does that mean? Why would we stop?"

"Sure an' I don't know," Kate replied. Kate Mullins had joined them in the hall now, a knitted sweater pulled over her night clothes, her blond hair matted to her head with sleep. Petra too was hovering near Kate's right side, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were enormous with confusion as she tried to grasp what was being said. Kate tried to explain, wishing that she'd tried to learn a bit more German than "hello", "goodbye" and "how are you". Finally Kate grabbed her roommate's hand and pressed it to the door jam so that Petra could feel how the vibrations had stopped. Petra seemed to understand on some level, and she nodded gratefully before returning to the room to report back to her younger sister.

"It can't be anythin' real bad, can it?" Kate Mullins said fretfully, twisting the hem of her sweater in both hands.

Before anyone could answer, a sudden ruckus at the aft end of the corridor caught the crowd's attention. A pair of white-coated stewards had appeared and begun pounding on any doors still left unopened, bellowing for everyone to wake up.

"Everyone up and out of bed!" One of the pair hollered roughly, banging his fist against a closed cabin door. Several women ducked into their rooms as they approached, not understanding the language and wishing to avoid being seen by such a rough and unpleasant fellow while dressed only in their night things. "Third class is to gather fore and aft of the Well Deck. Bring your life preservers and wait there for further instructions,"

Kate felt her heart leap into her throat. _Life preservers? _Surely not; this had to be some sort of mistake, a drill perhaps. Kate Murphy had given a weak little yelp at this news and was now clutching Kate's arm in an almost painful grip, "Why d'we need those?" she breathed in a hoarse whisper, her fingers digging harder into Kate's skin "What's happened that we need those?"

"Maybe it's nothin'," Kate said, trying to sound sure of herself and doing a terrible job of it, "Maybe it's just…"

"Kate!"

All three Kates turned as one, for once failing to see the humour in the situation. Jim had evidently managed to fight his way back from the men's dorms and he hastened towards them.

"Jim!" Kate pulled her arm free of Murphy's vice-like hold and ran to meet him. She grabbed him by the wrists, immediately reassured by his presence. "Jim, what the Hell's happenin'?" she demanded breathlessly, "They're tellin' us te put our life vests on!"

Jim looked anxious, his mouth drawn into a grim line, his eyebrows knitted together. He pulled Kate closer, tugging one hand out of her grip and placing it protectively against the small of her back, "I think we hit somethin'," he said, his voice dark with worry.

Kate Mullins gave a squeak of fear, "What're we s'posed te do now then?" she asked, hugging herself for warmth and comfort.

The stewards had almost reached them now, but were occupied by trying to explain to a frustrated-sounded Italian man and his wife that they needed to dress and put on their life belts. Jim eyed them, then decided that they weren't likely to be much help, "I'll go upstairs an' have a look," he said, releasing his hold on Kate with some reluctance, "Stay here," he ordered.

He needn't have bothered. Jim got two steps before one of the white-uniformed men blocked his path, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs te see what's goin' on," Jim said incredulously, looking as though he'd have liked to punch the man in the nose, "Where d'ye think?"

"You'll stay here like you're told," The steward snapped, sounding more agitated and impatient than outright belligerent, "And for God's sake, get your bloody life preservers on!"

Jim opened his mouth to make a retort, but Kate grabbed the back of his shirt, "Don't Jim, there's no use fightin'," she pleaded. Several other men had rushed at the steward now, demanding answers in various languages. The situation had the potential to turn ugly at any moment and Kate wanted Jim kept well out of the way if it did. She pulled him back from the crowd. "Please Jim, c'mon, we'll find a way up without 'em,"

"All right," Jim turned and looked at her, his expression a mixture of anger and anxiety. Kate pressed herself closer to him, the fingers of both hands hooked into the material of his shirt, "All right Katie, go into yer cabin an' get yer life belt. Get dressed too, in somethin' warm I think."

"Where're you goin'?" Kate demanded, clutching him tighter.

"Back te me cabin; someone there might know somethin'," Jim said, gently attempting to pry her fingers loose, "it won't take but a couple o' minutes,"

Kate shook her head vigorously, "No, no, Jim ye can't leave…"

Jim wrapped his hands around one of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be fine. I'll meet ye at the aft staircase, aye? Now go on, take the others an' get dressed, quickly Kate," he kissed the top of her head, "I'll be back in no time, ye'll see."

Though still clearly unimpressed with the idea, Kate allowed Jim to let go of her. She watched him disappear into the crowd, chewing her lip uncertainly. Finally, Kate turned back to the other girls. They were hovering a few feet away, looking at her expectantly. Kate hurried over to them, untying the belt of her dressing gown as she did so.

"Where's Jim goin'?" Mullins asked, looking Kate up and down as though searching for signs of imminent separation anxiety.

"Back te his cabin," Kate replied, keeping her voice as calm as possible, "He's gonna meet us at the staircase," She pushed open her cabin door and gestured for her friends to return to their own rooms, "Right now get dressed warm an' put on yer life vests, quick as ye can."

In her room, Kate found Petra and Mathilde speaking to each other in rapid German, the tone of their voices undeniably fearful. When Kate entered they both looked at her with clear relief, as though they somehow sensed that she had some idea of what to do. Kate didn't waste time trying to mime out instruction; she simply grabbed the two girls' coats from their hooks and thrust the garments into their arms. "Here," Kate said, digging three life preservers out from underneath the bunks, "Take these too,"

Taking only a moment to see that her roommates understood, Kate began gathering up her own clothes. She pulled on stockings and bloomers but otherwise chose to skip worrying about the rest of her finicky underclothes. Instead, she pulled her skirt on over her night gown and then, after a moment, selected the never-worn blouse her mother had given her as a going away present and put it on too. Somehow saving it to wear for her arrival in New York no longer seemed important.

Just as Kate was throwing on her coat, the door flew open and Mullins and Murphy piled into the room. Neither were near as layered as Kate was, having apparently done nothing more than put on stockings and sweaters. Mullins had put on her cheerfully coloured beret, but neither girl was wearing gloves. Kate eyed them speculatively, "Are ye dressed warm enough then?" she was trying to secure her hat, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't work the pins.

Kate Murphy looked down at her coat - the only article of clothing she had put on over her nightdress – and heavy wool stockings, "How warm d'ye figure we need te be?" She demanded, her voice shriller than normal.

"I dunno!" Kate snapped, finally giving up on her hat and tossing it onto one of the bunks; with any luck she'd be back for it later, "How should I know? If ye feel warm enough then I guess ye are!"

"Don't yell Kate," Mullins pleaded, looking very small and pale in all her light-coloured clothing, "Please don't yell. We need te all help each other,"

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, pressing her free hand to her stomach. It wasn't fair to get annoyed; none of them had any idea what was going on, or what they needed to do. Kate herself was just obeying Jim's instructions. "I'm sorry, yer right," she said, opening her eyes. She checked the ties on her life preserver, "Yer all ready then?"

A chastised looking Kate Murphy answered for everyone, "Aye, we're ready, let go,"

Hand in hand they hurried away from their cabins, Kate in the lead, Petra and Mathilde bringing up the rear. There was mass confusion in the corridors. So many of the steerage passengers did not speak English that they had no idea what was going on. Even those third class travellers who could understand the instructions of the stewards were in turmoil, demanding answers, looking for loved ones, even just trying to decide where to go. The air of confusion and fear was a tangible thing, being passed from person to person like a spark of static electricity. Kate dragged her friends past group after group of frightened, uncertain passengers, many of whom she had become familiar with. The entire Sage family, all eleven of them, were huddled against one wall, the little ones clinging to their older siblings' hands while their parents discussed their next course of action. Kate wondered if anyone really knew what was happening.

Kate told herself over and over that it couldn't be serious, not really and truly dire. Even if the ship _had_ collided with something – and Kate's gut instinct told her that it had – _Titanic_ was supposed to be unsinkable. Everybody knew that. The life jackets were just a precaution, the crew following procedure, not an actual indication of danger. How could they be in any real danger on an unsinkable ship?

This thought would have provided some comfort if Kate's little group had not chosen that moment to run head long into a steward coming down the hallway from the forward decks. The man was moving quickly, paying little attention to where he was going, and he very nearly sent Kate flying when he ran into her.

There was a moment of confusion as they righted themselves and babbled apologies. The steward regained his composure first, giving the gaggle of women a once over and saying, "Good, life belts, excellent. Get to the Well Deck now, will you?" His voice was brusque, business-like and vaguely distracted. He hurried off without a glance back.

Kate watched him leave, feeling suddenly shaky and breathless. Just before the Steward had snapped back into his formal demeanour, Kate had caught a glimpse of something unsettling in his eyes, something that all the formal training in the world couldn't mask. She wasn't entirely sure, but if Kate had to put a name to the look, she'd have said that it was fear. The man was afraid. The crew knew better than the passengers what was going on, and if they were frightened…

"All right," Kate said, "Let's get a move on, aye?" She pulled her friends forward again, and if anyone in the group noticed that Kate had almost doubled her pace, not one of them was about to question her.


	26. The Staircase

**A/N:** YAY FAST UPDATE!!!!!! I can do this because I've had this section of the story written since June, because I am strange and wrote the sinking first. Go figure. But it's good, since I have a goal to finish this story by the end of February. Considering my previous goal was to finish this by Christmas, and clearly THAT didn't happen, I have no idea if this is a realisitc goal or not. But hey, let's see how she goes. XD ANYHOO, moving right along, this chapter is actually based around a song, but I have very, VERY loosly interpreted said song into what you see below you. people who know the musical will be able to spot the direct references, people who don't know the musical will be like "WTF, they sing here?!?". The answer is yes, yes they do. ALSO, we introduce a new character. I know, I know, 26 chapters in and a new person shows up. BLAME PETER STONE. I'd have cut this meeting if it didn't prove integral to the plot later on. But it does, so it stays. :)

I dedicate this chapter to Maury Yeston, who had recently proven himself to be one of the coolest people on the planet. XD Also, to **LC** and **Vee** for reading and reviewing every single chapter of this behemoth so far. You guys are amazing.

* * *

The congestion in the hallway increased the closer Kate and her friends got to the staircase. Kate began scanning the gathering masses for any sign of Jim, figuring that he should be appearing any moment, if he wasn't there already. He was, however, no where to be found, so Kate and the others continued their slow progress. At the base of the staircase, traffic flow went from pitifully slow to non-existent. This brought the little group to a full-stop, their way barred by an unmoving wall of people.

"Kate, what's goin' on?" Murphy asked, clutching a fistful of Kate's coat, "Why've we stopped?"

"I'm not sure," Kate replied, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of her. So far as she could tell, the human blockade extended all the way up the stairs. Just ahead of Kate was a man that she recognised as one of the musicians from Friday's party. She grabbed him by the arm, "What the Hell's all this about? Why aren't we movin'?"

"Beats the Hell outta me," the man replied, "I can't see a damned thing."

Kate bobbed on the balls of her feet, trying to ignore the anxious faces of her companions and the jostling of the crowd. A knot of something uncomfortably close to panic had settled in the pit of Kate's stomach. None of this made any sense; they'd been told to gather by the Well Deck hadn't they? So why could nobody seem to _get_ there? What had happened? And where the hell was Jim? Surely he should have been there by then, surely he had to know that Kate would be wondering where he was.

Suddenly a burly fellow came barrelling back down the stairs, nearly knocking several people flying, "The gate's locked!" He informed everyone in a thick Yorkshire accent that was positively dripping with fury, "They've bloody locked us down here!"

Nearly everyone who understood gasped. Kate Mullins gave a whimper of pure terror. The knot in Kate's stomach threatened to unravel and overwhelm her and she laced her fingers together across the front of her life vest, as though trying to physically hold herself together. She wanted Jim with her so badly that it almost hurt; if he was with her they could figure out what to do, together. She couldn't make a decision without knowing where he was. What if something had happened that was preventing him from getting to her?

Pushing these thoughts aside, Kate said, "All right, it's all right." She thought she was trying to reassure herself as much as anyone else.

"How is it all right?" Kate Murphy asked, looking every bit as beside herself as Kate felt, "What're we s'posed te do?"

Kate shook her head. She didn't know, she had no idea. And whatever they were supposed to do, or wherever they were supposed to go, Kate flatly refused to go anywhere without finding out what had become of Jim. No sooner had she thought this then did a male voice call her name. Kate whirled around, relief flooding every corner of her body.

"Took ye…" She stopped short, the words lodging themselves in the back of her throat. Because it was not Jim striding towards her but Jerry Bourke, his little cousin Nora by his side. Kate felt as though her insides had all turned to lead.

Oblivious of this, Jerry halted in front of Kate and her group, "Kate, d'ye know what's goin' on? I only just got back here te get Nora, see, an' no one's told me a thing,"

Kate barely heard him, "Jerry," she said urgently, hooking her fingers around his wrist, "Jerry, have ye seen Jim?"

Jerry frowned, "No Kate, I haven't," he shrugged, "Figured he was back here with you."

The look on Kate's face must have been positively ghastly, because both Mullins and Murphy took a step towards her. "Kate?" Mullins said tentatively, her eyes enormous with concern, "Ye've gone white as a sheet, are ye all right?"

Kate did not respond. Without even making a conscious decision to do so, she turned away from Jerry and Nora and began to push her way back through the crowd. Bewildered, Murphy and Mullins hesitated for a moment and then followed. Murphy took Petra's hand and tried to get her and Mathilde to come along as well, but neither German girl had any idea what had was going on. They backed away, gesturing frantically at the stairs. Murphy, not knowing what else to do, allowed them to stay put.

"Wait, Kate stop, where're ye goin'?" Murphy called in protest, struggling to catch up with the others, "We ought te stay here!"

Murphy was right, of course, and Kate knew it. But she had to find Jim, she _had_ to; in her haze of fear anything else was inconceivable. Kate, however, did not want to admit how afraid she was. Instead she allowed herself to get angry. Anger was safer, easier to handle. If she was angry she could keep the panic at bay for now.

Fury was etched into every line of Kate's body as she shoved past confused knots of people who made the mistake of stepping into her path. Kate was only vaguely aware of Mullins and Murphy trailing along behind her, still protesting half-heartedly. Her focus was solely on getting away from this madhouse at the staircase, finding her conspicuously absent Irishman and giving him a piece of her mind. If she headed towards the forward cabins, she was bound to run into Jim coming in the opposite direction. Any moment Kate expected to see him coming towards her down the long corridor. But he didn't appear.

The longer Jim remained missing the angrier Kate got. The others were deliberately hanging back a few steps as though afraid she might burn them if they got to close. Kate Murphy, however, decided to brave her friend's wrath and she drew up even with Kate's left shoulder.

"Look, Kate, this isn't doin' any good," Murphy said reasonably, practically jogging to keep up with Kate's strides, "Jim knows yer waitin' fer him an'…"

"Then where the Hell is he?" Kate demanded furiously, "Where the Hell's he got te if he knows I'm waitin'?" Murphy didn't appear to have an answer to this question and so settled for making a vague flapping gesture with both hands and throwing a helpless look back at Mullins.

Somewhere in the back of Kate's head was a little voice repeatedly warning her that she was behaving irrationally, quite possibly on the verge of hysterics. But she was so frightened, or angry, or both that she couldn't make herself stop and listen to that tiny voice of reason. Kate wondered absently if she would get better results if she simply stopped in the middle of the hallway and commenced bellowing Jim's name until _somebody_ told her where he was.

Fortunately for all involved, Kate had not had time to adequately consider this course of action before the man himself came hurtling around the corner at the end of the corridor. Kate gasped and drew to a halt so suddenly that both of her friends crashed into her back.

Jim, clad now in coat and hat but sans life vest, hurried towards the trio, "Kate! Kate, I'm sorry I took so long; It's a mess up there an' I was tryin' te find a way te…" he drew up short, taking in Kate's clenched fists and furious face, "God, Kate, are ye all right?"

Kate flew at him with a shriek, "Jim Farrell!" She half-screamed, pounding both fists against his chest, "Where the Hell have ye been? Don't you _ever _do that te me again or I'll kill ye where ye stand, ye damn fool man!"

Looking positively alarmed at this explosion, Jim caught Kate by both wrists in an attempt to stop the assault, "Jesus! I'm sorry Katie, I'm sorry!" She was still glaring fiercely, but at least had not hit him again, which Jim saw as an improvement, "I went fast as I could, but…"

"Ye _scared_ me," Kate said hoarsely, feeling her temper beginning to simmer down leaving something closer to mortification in its place, "Nobody's got any idea what's goin' on, an' I didn't know where ye were, or if somethin' might've happened to ye…"

"God Kate, I'm sorry," Jim repeated, "I didn't think…" he trailed off suddenly, as though realising just how far forward in the ship the three girls had come – they were past the dining saloon already. "Ye shouldn't've come so far up here. What happened at the stairs?"

Taking a deep breath to further clam herself, Kate said, "The staircase is blocked," she looked up at Jim, realising that, despite his presence a persistent ribbon of fear was still twined around her insides, "They've locked the gate. I don't know why, but we can't get through there," Kate swallowed hard, "I didn't know what else te do but come lookin' fer ye."

"Ev'ryone's scared outta their heads," Murphy informed him quietly, "Petra and Mathilde were too scared te even follow us,"

Jim looked back towards the aft decks, his features creasing into an expression of pure disbelief and something like horror. "Bleedin' Christ," he murmured under his breath. He still had Kate's wrists clasped in both hands and he pulled her a little way down the corridor to the T-intersection between this hall and the adjoining one. "Look here Kate," he said, pointing, "D'ye see?"

For a moment, Kate had no idea what he was showing her. Baffled, she tried to follow his gaze, disquieted by the look in his eyes, "Jim, what…?"

"There, see? Along the floor," Jim said, pointing again. If Kate was not entirely out of her mind, he looked almost afraid. She remembered the way the steward had looked at her and she felt all the breath disappear from her lungs, "Right there at the end o' the hall,"

Kate looked again and this time she saw it: water. Not a lot, not even a full inch yet but enough that Kate felt an ice-cold rivulet of fear trickle down the back of her neck. She heard Kate Mullins give a little scream and Kate Murphy mumble a panicky-sounding prayer. Evidently they too had spotted the water rolling towards them from the far end of the corridor.

Jim said, "It's already two foot deep in the men's dormitories, that's why I was so long in comin' back," Kate turned to stare at him and this time the fear in his eyes was unmistakeable. She felt the blood drain from her face as she realised what he was telling her, "Kate, the boat's sinkin'."

This was unthinkable. Not three hours earlier, Kate had been happier than she could ever recall being. She had felt untouchable, invincible, shielded by her joy and now, here she was thrust into a nightmare beyond anything she could have imagined. Kate looked up at Jim and she could tell from the expression on his face that he was thinking the same thing. He pulled Kate close and wrapped one arm around her waist protectively.

"What are we s'posed te do now then?" Murphy asked desolately. She had removed her bible from the inside of her coat and now had it clutched to her chest in white-knuckled hands, "Drown with all them other rats?"

Kate whirled on her, "Don't be daft!" She said, "There's lifeboats up there, I've seen 'em!" She pointed above her head to emphasise her point. Kate was frightened, very frightened, but damned if that meant she was going to stay down here and die. Damned if she gave up that easily.

"I've seen 'em too Kate," Mullins agreed eagerly, attempting a brave smile even though her face was as white as her sweater.

"Aye, so've I," Murphy said, "But how in Hell are we gonna get up there?"

"What about the forward staircase?" Kate asked Jim, meaning the one she'd used to get up on deck the other day. She already suspected what the answer would be.

As she feared, Jim shook his head, "The water up there's gotta be past knee deep by now Kate, we can't risk that one bein' locked as well,"

Not panicking was getting increasingly difficult. Kate had never gone up on deck by any means other than the two main Third Class staircases, and though she knew there had to be other passages to the higher decks, she had no idea where any of them were. And the water at the end of the hallway was getting closer.

Kate slammed one hand flat against the wall, frustration and fear getting the better of her, "Well fer God's sake, we can't just stand here starin' at each other!" She exclaimed, making everyone jump.

Before anyone could offer an alternative course of action, there were sound of foot falls in the corridor, and a man came splashing along at the end of the hallway. He stopped dead when he spotted the anxious foursome, and hurried to meet them. Kate had never seen him before, but his clothes and face were smeared with ash and he smelled distinctly of smoke and coal. He skidded to a halt in front of them, looking bewildered.

"What're you people doin' down here still?" The man demanded incredulously, "Don't ye know the ship's on her way down?"

"And who in Hell are you then?" Kate asked defensively, drawing herself up to her full height.

The man looked at her, "Fred Barrett, stoker," he gave the whole group a once-over and looked decidedly grim, "We need te get up te the boat deck, we're goners for sure if we don't,"

"What d'ye think we're tryin' te do man?" Jim snapped, once again pulling Kate closer, "But everythin's blocked. We'll have te find another way all right,"

Kate Murphy made a frantic with one hand, as though she'd gone to cross herself and changed her mind half way, "What other way? I've never seen no other way!"

Barrett considered this, brow furrowed, then suddenly slapped one hand across his thigh, "I know one! I've used it te sneak up on deck m'self. It's fer crew, no one'll have thought te close it off," he threw a glance at the three women in their long skirts, "We're gonna get a bit wet though, the door's that way," he pointed towards the rapidly flooding end of the corridor.

"We stand here much longer an' we're gonna get a _lot_ wet," Kate said, with a twitch of one eyebrow.

Barrett flashed her a tight, fleeting smile, "Right then, follow me before we all drown,"

Nobody was about to argue with him. Jim grabbed Kate's hand and took off after the stoker, the other two Kates following without hesitation. The water, scant inches deep only ten minutes earlier, was now deep enough to slosh around the ankles of Kate's boots. With every step, sprays of icy water splashed up the backs of Kate's legs soaking her stockings at mid-calf.

Kate winced at the cold against her skin, "You mark my words Jim Farrell," she gasped as they sloshed ungracefully down the hallway, "We're gonna end up havin' te _swim_ te America,"

Jim chuckled humourlessly, "Not if I can help it."


	27. We'll Meet Tomorrow

**A/N:** Wow so I utterly failed at getting this posted in a timely fashion. This chapter, for reasons that will become obvious when you read it, was very hard to write. And I mean that in the sense that I was like "noooooo, I do not want to write this" not in the sense that it actually gave me trouble. It's lateness is due almost entirely to the fact that I've been hellishly busy of late. And since I felt that I needed to have a couple full nights to devote entiely to writing this, in order to do it justice, it took longer than expected. That's all I can really say about this chapter without giving the rest away. I hope it has the impact I wanted.

As usual I have to extend my undying gratitude to** LazyChestnut** and **viennacantabile** for never failing to read and give me feed back, and also to **doodlezr1** the latest author to join the ranks of that rare and fabulous creature known as the Reviewer. Enormous thanks and virtual cookies to all of you.

* * *

Barrett had been correct in assuming that his path out of the steerage decks would be left unattended. There was a gate blocking the entrance to the little staircase, but it slid open easily when the stoker tugged on it. Kate realised with a jolt that there must have been sets of stairs like these scattered all around the steerage decks, passageways that appeared for all the world to be locked and barred, but were, in fact clear paths to the upper decks. The trick was knowing that they were there and where to find them, and most passengers, if any, in third class would have had no idea. Kate wondered how many of the people in her class had gathered at the blocked main staircases. What would happen to them if they couldn't find another way to the boat deck? The thought made her shudder, and Kate pushed it away.

The water was already lapping over the top step, a depth that had been reached with alarming speed. Kate didn't know how long it would take for a ship the size of Titanic to sink, but the rapidly increasing water level was doing nothing to bolster her confidence. She didn't dare consider the possibility that they were already too late, that by the time they reached the boat deck the life boats would all be gone.

Kate was immeasurably relieved to climb free of the waterlogged decks and head up the stairs. Though she'd been doing her best to hold her skirts out of the water, in areas the material was soaked right up to the knee. The staircase was narrow and they had to proceed in a straight line, with Barrett leading the way. Jim ushered the women ahead of him and brought up the rear.

Squelching along two places behind Kate, Mullins said, "The water's terrible cold. Feels like me legs've gone numb,"

"Below freezin' I'd say," Barrett informed them solemnly, "Boiler room flooded just as I was gettin' out, soaked me pretty well through. Never felt water so cold as that."

The news just kept getting better and better, Kate thought dismally. She tugged at the bottom of her life vest, wondering whether or not it would provide any insulation against the cold. She highly doubted it. Deciding that her best way to avoid finding out was to get to the Boat Deck as soon as humanly possible, Kate picked up her pace, taking the steps two at a time.

She was right at Barrett's back when the stoker reached the top of the staircase and pushed open the gate. He ushered Kate and the others out into a new corridor. It looked very similar to the third class decks, though Kate was positive that she'd never been this high in the ship before.

Jim came up beside her and put his hand against the small of her back, "Where are we now then?" He asked Barrett, scanning the area curiously.

"C – Deck, Second Class area," Barrett replied, he jerked his head to the right, "C'mon now, this way. We get past the library an' there's another set a stairs te get us up past A an' B deck te the boat deck, we're closin' in now."

"Hear that Jim?" Kate said wryly as they followed obediently after the stoker, "Second class. We're movin' up in the world." Jim gave her a tight smile, but was so focused on keeping Barrett in his sights that Kate was not entirely sure he'd registered what she had said.

There was not such a great sense of confusion on the second class decks as there had been in Steerage. The people that Kate and her companions passed looked anxious, and sombre, but they all had a distinct sense of purpose and direction that was notably lacking down below. It should have been reassuring to be free of the chaos in third class, but instead it made Kate angry. Everyone up here seemed well looked after – why was no one thinking to help the people who really and truly needed it?

Kate and her friends though, they were lucky; they had Barrett. Kate knew they would have been hopelessly lost, probably still wading around F-deck if the stoker hadn't chosen to stop and help them. She would probably never be able to repay him that debt. Provided, of course, that they all got out of this alive.

"Mr. Barrett?" Kate said. She was already almost jogging, but she sped up a little more so that she was closer to the crewman.

Barrett glanced at her over his shoulder, "Fred. No one calls me 'mister' 'cept the chief engineer,"

"Oh…well, I'm Kate then," Kate replied, she gestured over her shoulder at the other two girls, "An' that's Kate Mullins an' Kate Murphy,"

Mullins attempted a brave smile and said, "Hello," while Murphy managed nothing more than a feeble waggle of one hand.

Barrett looked at Jim, "Yer not named Kate too, are ye?"

Jim gave a short laugh, "Thank God, no – Jim Farrell,"

"Ah, well, pleased te meet ye?" Barrett said, the statement turning up at the end like a question. Kate thought she knew why – she couldn't think of worse circumstances under which to make a person's acquaintance. In fact, the entire conversation, normally such a commonplace exchange, seemed so absurd that Kate could have laughed.

Kate settled for flashing the stoker a bemused half-smile, "I wanted te thank ye," she said, "Fer helpin' us,"

Barrett shrugged and looked mildly uncomfortable with her gratitude, "I wasn't about te leave ye there te drown,"

"Plenty would've," Kate said.

"Plenty did ye mean," Jim put in bitterly. Kate squeezed his hand.

"Well," Barrett said, slowing down and doing a quick double check of where they were before leading them to another gated staircase, "Don't be too hasty with the thanks, yeah? We're not in the clear yet."

"We're gonna be all right," Kate Mullins piped up. She had her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles had turned the same colour as her life vest, "I know we are. Ev'rythin' this whole trip has worked out just fine fer us, hasn't it? This will too, I just _know_ it,"

Nobody seemed able echo Mullins' sentiment. She looked from face to face seeking reassurance and found none. Murphy exchanged a helpless look with Kate and opened her mouth as though she was going to try to say something positive, only to clamp her jaw shut again and shake her head. It simply wasn't in her to tell what she so obviously thought to be an outright lie. Seeing this, Mullins' lower lip trembled slightly, but she nonetheless said, "It's what _I_ think anyway," in a wavering but determined voice.

"Right well, let's test the theory, yeah?" Barrett said, ushering first Mullins and Murphy, then Kate and Jim through the gate ahead of himself, then following behind, "Up ye go, wait fer me at the top,"

Mullins, as though determined to prove to all of them that she wasn't being foolishly hopeful, bounded up the stairs with the force of a small locomotive. Though the others were not precisely dawdling, she made it to the top first. Just as Mullins bounced onto the landing and turned around to check everyone else's progress, the staircase seemed to shift under their feet. The hull of the ship groaned like an enormous animal beginning its death throes, and that sound scared Kate more then anything that happened so far. The noise was a funeral knell, irrefutable proof that if the did not get out of here, and quickly, they were all going to die.

The noise tapered to a low moan, and Murphy, just above Kate on the second last stair clutched her Bible to her chest and said, "Holy God in Heaven, what in Hell was…"

She never got to finish her question because just then the entire ship gave a tremendous lurch to her forward starboard side. Kate pitched sideways into Jim, who just barely managed to keep both of them from tumbling headlong to the bottom of the stairs. Murphy was not so lucky. She lost her footing entirely and hurtled backward off of her step, both arms pin wheeling madly for something to grab hold of. Kate, who could not let go of Jim without falling herself, could do nothing but watch helplessly as her friend fell. Murphy collided with Barrett, who managed to get a grip on the falling girl's arm. He saved her from breaking her neck, but Murphy's momentum was such that she pulled the stoker off his feet before bouncing painfully down the remaining few steps to land in a heap on the floor.

Mullins shrieked, "_Kate Murphy are ye killed?_" and flew down the stairs to her friend's side, Kate and Jim in close pursuit.

Murphy was not killed, but her face was sheet white when she sat up and looked at them. Kate dropped to the floor and gave her a frantic once over, patting her down for any sign of permanent damage, "Are ye all right? Did ye hurt yerself?"

"N-no," Murphy said shakily, visibly trembling from head to foot, "I think I'm fine," She appeared to be telling truth, looking far more scared than injured. Kate was so relieved that she threw her arms around the other girl's neck, while Mullins dissolved into a sobbing wreck. Murphy patted the blond girl weakly on the top of the head, "It's all right Mullins,"

"What the hell happened?" Jim asked, helping Barrett to his feet.

The other man looked ashen, "Another bulkhead must've given way," he rubbed a hand through his hair, "God a'mighty."

Kate let go of Murphy and stood up, "We have te go," she said urgently, "we have te go _now_,"

No one was a bout to argue with her. Between the four of them, they got Kate Murphy back on her feet. She seemed extremely unsteady, but Kate chalked that up to shock more than anything else. They took the stairs at a near sprint, not one of them willing to waste another moment.

"Go right," Barrett ordered, as he reached the top stair behind Kate and Jim pointing down the hall, "The exit te the Boat deck is right at the end there, ye see?"

Kate looked and her heart leaped; at the end of the hallway was an open door and through that she could see dark night sky and people hurrying past. She could have wept with joy. A part of her had started to believe that they were never going to get out of the ship, that they would die down there without ever seeing open air again.

Jim grabbed Kate's hand and began pulling her towards the exit. Kate, in turn caught hold of Mullin's sweater and dragged the other girl along. They got maybe a quarter of the way before Mullins came to a grinding halt. Kate stopped too – Jim practically pulled her arm out of its socket before realising that she was no longer moving with him – and wheeled on her friend, "Mullins, what're ye doin' we have te keep goin'!"

"Where's Kate Murphy?" Mullins asked by way of reply.

"What?" Kate looked past Mullins to Barrett, who frowned and looked back over his shoulder. Sure enough there was no sign of Murphy in the hallway.

Forgetting all about how close they were to escape, Kate and Mullins exchanged terrified looks and dashed back to the stairs. Murphy was there, sitting four steps up with her face buried in her hands. Kate felt a brick of ice settle into her stomach, "Murphy, what is it, what's wrong?"

Murphy looked up, startled. Her face was still ghostly pale, and streaked now with tears, "It's me ankle," she said, sounding furious with herself, "I must've landed on it when I fell; it won't take me weight,"

"Oh God," Kate breathed. She went down the stairs, almost stumbling in her haste and perched beside her friend, "Can ye walk at all?"

"A little bit," Murphy said, swiping impatiently at her tear-stained face, "But not fast. I can't keep up,"

Kate swallowed hard, "Well that's all right. We'll go slow fer ye, it's not far,"

But Murphy was already shaking her head, as though she'd expected Kate to say this, "No ye don't, ye've already wasted enough time on me."

By then Mullins had reached Murphy's side and she looked at Kate wide-eyed. Kate was aghast, "Are ye daft? We aren't leavin' ye here!"

"That's exactly what yer gonna do!" Murphy shot back furiously, "I'm not gonna be the reason the lot o' ye die,"

"No, I won't do it, I won't…" Kate protested stubbornly.

She was cut off by an impatient hiss from Murphy, "Stop it!" She snapped, "Yer goin' te the boats Kate, of all of us, yer the one who needs te get there most,"

Kate, in her panic and denial, had no idea what the other woman was getting at, "What are ye on about?"

Murphy ignored her, "Jim, you know what I'm talkin' about – ye gotta get Kate off this ship,"

Jim looked graver then Kate had ever seen him look, "Aye, I know that,"

Kate stared at him, then looked back at Murphy. Suddenly it all became perfectly, dreadfully clear. "You know," she said dully.

"'Course I know," Murphy said, "I've known fer days,"

Kate shook her head, "But how…?"

Murphy snorted, "Between me mam an' me aunts, ye think I don't know what a pregnant woman looks like? Ye do a good job hidin' it, but not from someone who knows the signs like I do,"

"Murphy figured it out almost right off – when ye were feelin' bad on Friday," Mullins put in quietly, "We were just waitin' fer ye te tell us, that's why we didn't say anythin'."

"An' that's why ye've got te go," Murphy repeated, "Ye've got te get safe Kate, I won't let ye stay back on account o' me,"

Kate felt a lump rise in her throat, and she had to keep swallowing to keep from sobbing out loud, "But that's not fair,"

"Since when is life fair?" Murphy asked wryly. She took Kate's hand and added, "I'll follow, I will. I'm not gonna give up. But ye can't wait fer me."

Barrett, forgotten up until that moment, cleared his throat, "I'll help her," he said to Kate, "I'll make sure she gets outta here,"

Kate shot him a grateful look. Mullins nodded, "Right. I will too," Both Kate McGowan and Murphy protested this immediately, but Mullins was obstinate, "Ye need a friend with ye Kate Murphy!' She said, sounding petrified but determined, "Kate's got Jim, she'll be all right, but you need me. 'Sides, we can go faster with two of us helpin'."

Murphy seemed to sense that there was no arguing with her, "God help us all," she murmured, then turned to Kate, "Well then, ye heard her. I'll be fine. We'll be right behind ye. Now go," She looked up at Jim, "An' you, you make sure she gets off this boat, ye hear me?"

Jim nodded dumbly. Kate, knowing that there was no way she was talking either of her friends out of their decision threw her arms around both of them and hugged them as tightly as she could. She was no longer bothering to try not to cry. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm so sorry,"

"What're ye apologisin' fer?" Murphy demanded, "We aren't dead yet. Now go! Go, _go_!"

Jim held out his hand and Kate dithered for only a moment, terrified that she was never going to see either of her friends again. Then she leaped to her feet, put her hand in Jim's and let him pull her away.

"They'll be all right," Jim said, as they turned into the hallway for a second time, "Barrett'll get 'em out,"

"I hope so, God I hope so," Kate replied, blinking tears out of her eyes, "I'll never forgive m'self if they die,"

"No one's dyin'," Jim said grimly, "Now c'mon, we're almost out." They ran. At the end of the corridor, Kate had only an instant to glance back over her shoulder and say a silent prayer – _please God deliver them from evil_ - before she and Jim burst out of the ship into the dark, unforgiving night.


	28. To the Lifeboats

**A/N:** I...don't know what to say about this chapter. I mean, there's a lot I _could_ say, except I'm pretty sure I'll give something vital away if I start rambling. So I'm just going to let you people read this and I can yammer on at you in review replies. XD I will mention that the _Fortune's Winds_ Word document on my computer is now over 150 pages long. For someone like me who almost never manages to follow through with anything over ten pages, this is fairly monumental, lol.

Many thanks to **LC**, **Vee** and **Cookies** for reading and reviewing and being generally awesome. Thanks ladies!!!

* * *

If the water down below had been cold, then out here in the open air it was ten times worse. The night was freezing, easily several degrees colder than it had been when Kate and Jim had retired for the night, not three hours earlier. Kate could feel the sea-drenched areas of her skirt turning to icy panels that froze uncomfortably to her wool stockings. The material crackled frostily with every move she made.

Still, the relief at being free of the ship's interior was enormous. Kate let out a breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding, her breath billowing white in front of her eyes. The Boat deck was unfamiliar territory to both Kate and Jim, and without Barrett there to guide them, they were forced to halt and take a moment to survey their surroundings.

All the relief Kate had just experienced evaporated when she cast her gaze around the deck. There was no order here, no sense of organisation or control. To Kate's eyes, everything was pure, undiluted chaos. Passengers and crew swarmed the deck in panicked clumps, shouting and cursing and crying. Kate could hear a baby wailing nearby and somewhere behind her an unseen woman screamed in wordless terror and panic.

Kate felt as though she had turned to stone. She had expected to find fearful crowds, but she had also assumed that the ship's officers would have had everything under control – certainly they were trained for this sort of thing, weren't they? This mindless, unspeakable frenzy of humanity was worse than anything Kate could have imagined.

"Oh my God," she breathed, hooking the fingers of both hands into the front of Jim's coat, as though he were the only thing that could keep her from flying apart at the seams, "Oh my God, where d'we go?"

"I don't know," Jim said, he tugged her towards the railings where they could get a clearer view of the deck, "There's gotta be an officer or somethin' who can tell us though," by the tone of his voice he was not at all hopeful that this was actually true.

Still, Kate searched the milling crowd for something, _anything_ that might help them. For the first time, Kate realised how far they had travelled from the main Third Class staircase. From this vantage point, Kate could look down on the forward Well Deck and forecastle deck, an area of the ship she had explored just the once, Friday afternoon with Jim. She regretted looking almost immediately; the entire bow of the ship was under water, the decks Kate had walked not three days ago turned warped and ghostly through the greenish filter of intruding ocean. Deck chairs and other debris that had fallen from the higher decks floated here and there on the surface of the water. It was a dreamscape, a nightmare vision that Kate's mind tried to reject as false information.

"Mary Mother o' God," Kate said, in a small voice that was almost reverent in its tone. She felt as though she was witnessing the death of some great matriarch or figure head, and Kate supposed that this was not at all far from the truth.

Jim said, "Ev'ryone said she couldn't sink if she tried," Kate looked up at him and found that he was as transfixed by the view of the mortally wounded ocean liner as she was, "God a'mighty, men are fools,"

Kate nodded her agreement, "Yes," she squeezed his hand, "But Jim, what d'we _do_? Where are the boats? I don't see any,"

"Well they've got te be somewhere," Jim said, frowning, "big boat like this, they must have a load of 'em, aye?"

Kate was not convinced. If this was true, they should have been able to find a still-empty life boat right away. But Kate, standing on tip-toe to try and see above the heads of the crowd, could not see any, not even one. What she did see, however, were a number of empty davits stretching down the starboard side of the ship. Her barely suppressed panic welled up in her chest again.

"Jim," She said weakly, pointing, "Those're the things as hold the boats up, aye? Ye could see it from the third class decks out back, I'm sure that's what I saw,"

One look at Jim's face confirmed it; if there had been lifeboats on this side of the ship – and Kate knew that there had been – they were gone now, lowered to the ocean long before Jim and Kate had appeared on the Boat Deck.

"All right," Jim said, somehow managing to keep his voice calm, "We'll try the other side. C'mon,"

They had to double back on themselves, and run to the aft end of the Boat Deck in order to cross to the port side of the ship. Never before had the tilt been so noticeable; Kate felt as though she was trying to run up the side of a slanted roof. The Poop Deck, which should have been nearly invisible given how high in the ship they were, could be seen plainly, lifted as it was out of the water. Kate could see people all over the lower decks, and for the first time she fully realised just how many people were about to die. She felt dangerously close to throwing up, and had to swallow hard and concentrate on where her feet were going to force the feeling to pass.

Around the other side, Kate and Jim drew to a halt and looked around. Again Kate could see empty davits, plenty of hysterical people, but no life boats. A small, wordless sound of terror escaped her lips. Clutching Jim's hand, Kate said, "Jim…I don't see…" but fear had constricted her throat to the size of a pin and she could not finish the sentence.

Jim put his arms around her and pulled her as close as he could manage, trying to both warm and reassure. He shook his head wordlessly, his eyes scanning the deck for some sign that their salvation was waiting up here somewhere. Shivering with fear and cold, Kate pressed her face into his shoulder, fighting against the hopeless despair that was threatening to overtake her. _The boats are gone_, Kate thought, _after all that we were too late._

Suddenly, with no word of warning, Jim pushed her away from him, grabbed her above the elbow and began to move. Kate yelped in surprise, but Jim offered no explanation, just continued steering her bodily in the direction he wanted her to go.

"Jim, what -?" Kate managed to gasp, looking at him for some indication of what he had spotted, hoping desperately that he had, indeed, spotted _something_ and was not just blindly wading through the crowd. Jim eyes were fixed on an area somewhere in front of them, but when Kate looked she could see nothing but more senseless chaos. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Kate burst out, "_Jim Farrell_, where are we goin'? Ye can't just manhandle me all over the place an' not say one word te…"

"There's a boat, yonder," Jim nodded his head in the direction he meant, "Just one that I can see. Could be it's the last," he kept his gaze locked on his target, but his grip on Kate tightened protectively against the push and pull of the crowd.

"The last one…" Kate practically stopped breathing at the thought. A terrible mix of hope and dread boiled up in the back of her throat, "Oh Lord, Jim. Jim, what if it's full?"

"It's not,"

"But what if…"

"Kate damn it!" Jim barked, finally turning to look at her, "It's _not_ full, an' you're gettin' a spot, so help me."

Kate stared at him, "Jim…"

He gave her a fierce look that she'd never seen on his face before and squeezed her hands so tightly that the bones ground together, "Katie, I am gettin' you off this ship safe," his voice was as fierce as the look in his eyes, "I am gettin' you outta here if it's the last thing I do."

A chill wormed its way up Kate's spine, one that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the air. Jim, not waiting for a response – Kate had none to give anyway – dragged her forward once again. It wasn't long before Kate realised that the substantial clump of people ahead of them was not just another gaggle of confused passengers but a far more organised and purposeful group. This did not mean that there was no commotion; in fact, the crush of bodies got worse and worse the closer they got to the lifeboat. Kate still could not see the boat itself, but the davit and ropes holding it aloft were clear above the heads of the onlookers.

The crew had set up a perimeter around the boat in an effort to keep desperate people from rushing at it. The surrounding crowd had been pushed back into a semi-circular wall of humanity. First and second class ladies with their men, dressed in an incongruous mix of fine dresses, furs, sleepwear and life vests, serving staff and other lesser crew trying to help control the crowd, and above all a prevailing sense of dread were all packed into this one small area of the ship, this one last hope for survival.

And something else too – as Kate got close enough to clearly see what was going on, she realised, with a stab of pure horror, that the crew was separating women from men. Each time a couple or family stepped forward, the women and children were allowed to step into the boat, while the men were kept well back by the officers keeping watch over the proceedings. In many cases, the crew was literally tearing wives from husbands and depositing them, shrieking, into the lifeboat.

Though Jim must have seen this as well, he didn't even slow as they hit the mass of people, merely pulled Kate closer to prevent them being separated in the throng, and pushed through. They burst out the other side of the human wall, staggering. Kate was sure she would have fallen if not for Jim's vice-like grip on her arms.

"Is there still room then?" Jim demanded, thrusting Kate forward.

The presiding officer, a man who gave off the distinct impression that he was only just barely managing to keep control of the situation, nodded brusquely, hardly sparing Kate a glance, "Yes, yes, come along miss,"

A second officer hurried over, grabbed Kate by the upper arm and attempted to pull her towards the boat. Kate twisted out of his grasp. "Wait!" She dug her nails into Jim's forearms and planted her feet, refusing to budge, "Wait, Jim, what about you?"

Jim looked her sadly and Kate realised that he'd known all along that this was the way it would be: women and children first. "Men have te wait Kate, ye know that," he said gently, attempting to pry her fingers loose.

She held him tighter, her hands cramping with the effort to keep her hold, "I'm not goin' without you Jim!" she said desperately. Kate knew that she was pleading now, the way who knew how many women before her had already pleaded, "I don't want te be a widow before I even get te be a bride, damn it!"

"Stop it Kate!" Jim said sternly, only his eyes betraying how hard this was for him, "Ye've got a place on that boat, now take it fer God's sake!"

"No…Jim…"

"_Kate!_" He actually shook her, "You're goin' te America an' yer gonna be some body!" Kate looked up at him, her mind refusing to accept that this was actually happening, that this was how it was all going to end. Jim touched her face gently, "Yer gonna be _somebody_ Katie,"

Kate threw her arms around him, held him as tightly as she could, as though by sheer force of will she could keep him at her side. For once though, Jim's will was stronger. He pried her off of him, ignoring her protests, kissed her one last time, and then gently let her go.

For an instant all the fight went out of her. This brief moment of submission gave the officer who had grabbed Kate before time to catch hold of her again. When he tried to move her, however, Kate seemed to explode back to life with so much force that the man almost lost his grip on her again and was forced to bellow for another crewman to come to his aid.

Kate screamed her anguish, cursing the men who held her at the top of her voice, kicking and thrashing and doing everything in her power to wrench her arms free of their grasp. They would _not_ take Jim from her, they couldn't, they _couldn't_. She could not lose Mullins and Murphy and now Jim too. It was unthinkable. It was more than she could possibly stand. She would fight ten of these stony-faced, business like crewmen if she had to.

But it was a fight Kate was never going to win. One of the officers who held her finally gave up on trying to make her move of her own volition. Instead, he wrapped both arms firmly about her waist, lifted her bodily and dropped her into the lifeboat before she could do a thing to stop it.

No one in the boat – fancy first class ladies mostly – paid any real mind to the furious, stricken Irish girl who had just fallen into their midst. The scope of the catastrophe had made them all equal. First class, second, third, none of that mattered, none of that defined any of them. In that moment, they were all linked together by virtue of the men they were leaving behind. Kate was just one more woman being forced away from the man she loved; for once her story was no different from theirs.

Kate struggled to her feet, her vision blurred with tears, her heart feeling like splintered glass in her chest. She sought Jim's face in the crowd, desperate to keep him in view for as long as she could. Their eyes met across the suddenly immense void that now separated them. Jim smiled at Kate reassuringly, as though somehow this was all going to turn out all right, then pressed the fingers of his right hand to his lips and held them out to her. Kate sobbed, a dry, broken sound that shook her whole body and called his name once. But her voice was swallowed by the noise of the crowd, and she knew that he did not hear.


	29. If Tomorrow is Not in Store

**A/N:** So, considering I spent this morning in Emerg. getting CAT scanned and generally poked and prodded for what turned out to be my very own pair of twin kidney stones (HOLY MOTHER OF GOD OUCH) I am generally quite happy that this is somehow managing to get posted today. I feel much better now, but holy crap body, NEVER DO THAT. AGAIN. Unrelated, as this is now officially the end of february and I have not completed the fic, my new deadline is March 31st, which for various reason I really HAVE to stick to. Wish me luck. XD Lastly, I leave you with three important point about this chapter: 1 - This is exactly what happens in the musical. Obviously written with my usual expanded-uponness, but pretty much, this is how it plays out. Please don't hurt me. 2 - I decided starting out that I would make no changes regarding who live and dies, thusly, if the character dies on stage they die in the story, and if they survive, then they do in the fic as well. No, the list of living/dead does not necessarily mirror real life. But you'll have to ask Peter Stone about that. And please don't hurt me. 3 - I debated long and hard about whether or not to make this chapter and the previous chapter one big long section, instead of cliffhanging you guys the way I sort of did. Ultimately, I decided that this was the better method. Please don't hurt me.

Last but not least, I have to thank the four amazing ladies who reviewed the last chapter:** LC**, **Vee**, **Cookies**, and **doodlezr1**. Your feedback and support is hugely appreciated. You guys are fantabulous.

* * *

It seemed to Kate, who stood at the edge of the lifeboat clutching the gunwales in hands that were numb with cold, that everything around her, all the chaos, had disappeared. She no longer felt the bitter air, she no longer heard the noise of the crowd, she no longer saw the women who shared her boat, or the officers manning the loading. Kate's entire world had shrunk to nothing but Jim and keeping his face in her sights so that she could memorise every detail she could.

He had kept his promise to Murphy, Kate thought numbly; he had gotten her off the ship. Kate would survive, she would go on to America and have her baby, and live her life the way she had told herself she would in the anxious days before boarding the _Titanic_. But suddenly this task, which she had once been fully prepared to follow through with on her own, seemed huge and impossible. How could she do it all alone? Without Murphy's level-headed reason and honesty, without Mullins' optimism and easy laugh, and without Jim, without his kind eyes and slow smile, and his voice, and strength, and calm, and his warm presence to hold her when she was cold, or angry, or sad, or scared. Kate had no idea if she could be that strong.

She had to be, Kate knew that. Jim was counting on her and she could not, would not let him down. But how was she supposed to find the strength that he so clearly believed she had when she felt as though she was being torn into a million pieces?

There had to be some way. There _had_ to be some way to get Jim off of the ship. He was meant to be with her, he wasn't meant to die in some Godforsaken stretch of freezing ocean, he was meant to be _with her_. Kate, who had never believed in fate or even so much as entertained the idea that certain things in life could be predetermined or written in the stars, caught hold of this notion and held on for dear life. She knew it was ridiculous, but she clung stubbornly to that faint shred of hope. Kate was sure that if she did otherwise, if she allowed herself to really and fully believe that he was lost to her forever, she would go insane. But deep down a nasty, snarling little voice told her that there was no way, no possible way that Jim, of all those men lost and abandoned on the Titanic's deck, was going to be the one that fickle fortune decided to save. For that to happen, Kate would need a miracle. Nothing short of a miracle.

And then, out of nowhere, she got one.

It took Kate a moment to register what had changed. Looking around herself in a sort of daze, Kate realised that she was no longer being jostled by the loading of more frantic women into the boat, and this fact snapped her back into the moment. She became aware of her surroundings again with the odd sensation of waking from a half-sleep. The needle-sharp pain of the cold returned to her fingers, the cries of the passengers on deck reached her ears for the first time since she'd been dropped so unceremoniously into the lifeboat.

Blinking stupidly, Kate looked from the lifeboat – which still clearly had room for more – to the mob of people still gathered on deck. She could see no reason why the officers had stopped the loading of passengers. Kate frowned and looked to Jim to see if he could give her some indication of what had happened. Jim, however, was watching the two officers in charge. They were, Kate realised, her confusion deepening, scanning the crowd as though looking for a specific something or someone.

"You!" One of the officers – Kate thought it was the fellow who'd grabbed her, but she wasn't sure – barked, singling out a young man in White Star garb, "In the boat. We need two men at the oars!"

The seaman did not to need to be told twice. He gasped a thank you to the officer and hastened into the lifeboat. Kate was forced to back away from the boat's edge to make room, but she was back again immediately once the man got past. A singular thought had occurred to her, though she hardly dared allow it to fully form: the boat needed _two_ men to row…and Jim had worked fishing boats half his life…

"Stoker!" The officer shouted, pointing to another man in the crowd before him.

"Barrett sir,"

Kate gasped and whipped her head around so fast that her neck cricked; she had been so focused on Jim that she hadn't even noticed that Barrett had joined the chaotic scene around the life boat. She could hardly believe her eyes when he stepped forward, giving Jim a quick look of acknowledgement as he did so. And if he was there, then that meant that somehow, against all odds, Mullins and Murphy had made it as well. Kate, her heart pounding like a hammer against the walls of her chest, cast her eyes over the group. And yes, there they were, Mullins' rainbow patterned beret standing out like a beacon among the rest of the onlookers. They were well back from the boat still – Murphy's ankle was no doubt impeding her ability to break through the crowd – but they were there.

The officer nodded absently, and made an impatient gesture with both hands, "Yes, fine, Barrett then. Can you row?"

It was all Kate could do to keep from howling in despair. Of course Barrett would say yes, only a fool would not. But Jim was so _close_ and though Kate was grateful to Barrett, immeasurably grateful, he was not the man she wanted.

Barrett, however, looked startled by the question. He threw a fleeting look at Jim and said, "I dunno sir, I've never tried."

It would be a mystery to Kate forever how she managed to keep from falling overboard. She felt as though all of the bones in her body had turned to liquid. She caught Jim's eye and could see from the look on his face that he was fighting to make a decision, caught between what he wanted to do and what Kate wanted him to do, and whether or not he could live with himself if he went through with it. Please, please, _please_, Kate thought desperately, I need you, _I need you_.

She must have made a noise, some sound that managed to cut through the rest of the din, because that was the only explanation for how Barrett suddenly picked her face out of the mess of others on the lifeboat. He looked straight at her, then back at Jim. When Jim met the stoker's gaze, Barrett nodded, a tiny, barely visible bob of his head. It all happened in an instant, so fast that no one around them could have possibly noticed. But Kate knew that that moment would be burned forever in her memory; Barrett's nod, the miracle she'd never expected to get.

"I can row sir," Jim said, stepping forward. He looked pale and shaken, "I was a fisherman by trade see, an'…"

"Good, good," the officer said brusquely, his face betraying every inch of his anxiety even if his voice did not. Kate realised that to him nothing the least bit extraordinary had happened, "Get on the boat then man!"

Jim turned and said something to Barrett – a thank you, an apology, both, Kate never knew which – who nodded and shook Jim's outstretched hand. Kate registered this only vaguely. All the strength had gone out of her legs, and only sheer force of will was keeping her upright. She stood as though turned to stone, not daring to move, scarcely daring to breathe until she had watched Jim climb safely off of the listing deck into the boat and back at her side where he belonged. He reached her just in time for Kate to collapse into a boneless heap on the floor of the lifeboat.

The loading of the lifeboat resumed as though absolutely nothing momentous had happened. Unnoticed in the midst of this, Jim wrapped both arms around Kate and lifted her gently onto the seat beside him. Kate stared at him, the feeling gradually returning to her limbs.

"Kate…" Jim began. Kate interrupted him backhanding him as hard as she could across the side of his head, and then throwing herself forward into his arms with a shriek and burying her face in his chest. After that, Jim wisely kept silent.

A heartrending wail from the deck finally snapped Kate out of the haze of her own personal drama and back to reality. The officers were struggling with another woman, a pretty, well-bred looking young lady with dark hair and a blue over coat that probably cost more than Kate's entire wardrobe put together. Her fancy looks were completely at odds with the way she was lashing out at the officer, fighting like an angry cat, clawing and scratching and shrieking in her efforts to not be separated from her man. Her screams were painful to listen to, and Kate wondered if _she_ had sounded like that, as though someone was ripping her heart from her body.

It took nearly a minute to wrestle the woman into the boat. She landed in an ungraceful pile near where Kate sat, and began weeping brokenly onto her hands. Kate couldn't watch; she clutched Jim tighter and pressed her face into the side of his neck, her own tears freezing to her eyelashes.

"There's not much room left," Jim said quietly, "Not hardly enough fer ev'ryone up there,"

Kate lifted her head from his shoulder and looked around. Jim was right; the lifeboat was nearly full. Beside Kate, the crying woman in blue seemed to realise this too because her sobbing intensified. Kate swallowed hard, feeling her insides tying themselves into a thousand knots, "Jim, Mullins an' Murphy are up there, did ye see 'em?"

Jim nodded, "Aye, I saw 'em. Barrett did as he said he would I guess," His voice sounded very tight as he said this, as though he was speaking through clenched teeth. Kate caught one of his hands in hers and held it tight. Jim shook his head, "He'll try an' get the girls on the boat Kate, I'm sure he will."

"They could still let him on too," Kate said with as much confidence as she could muster, "We've got te need more crew'n just the one fella we got."

"I s'pose," Jim said, sounding doubtful. Kate wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault that he, Jim, was safely off the ship, while Barrett was not – Barrett had made the choice himself, Kate had seen it, so had Jim – but she was sure that her assurances would fall on deaf ears. If Barrett died, Jim would blame himself, just as Kate knew that she would live with the guilt forever if she survived and her friends did not. But there was nothing, nothing at all she could do about it. She felt so helpless, so unable to do anything of use, she could have wept.

The ships' officers were counting empty lifeboat seats, trying to judge how many more could be packed onto the boat. Kate looked around as well, trying desperately to convince herself that there was still room for her friends. There was, there had to be; Kate could count at least ten empty spots, maybe more if they squeezed together. And she only needed three: Mullins, Murphy and Barrett, Kate thought, just those three. They were _right there_, how could the officers not give them a spot?

"There're still enough places Jim, look," Kate said, breathless with hope. She pointed out the gaps in the lifeboat's passengers, "There's got te be room fer…"

Kate was interrupted mid sentence when the ship – the great indestructible _Titanic_ – gave a deafening groan and tipped sharply to the bow. Up on deck many people were thrown off their feet; Kate saw the presiding officer scrabbling at the lifeboat davit to keep from being tossed overboard.

The lifeboat itself swung alarmingly on its ropes, bumping against the sides of the ship like a child's toy. Nearly everyone shrieked and several people were dislodged from their seats. By the time the boat stopped swinging, Jim had a hold of Kate so tightly that she was sure she was going to have fingerprints bruised into her upper arms.

Jim gave Kate a look of pure, undisguised alarm, "They better hurry it up," he said hoarsely, "else we might be makin' a swim fer it after all,"

The little boat lurched again, prompting another series of startled cries from her badly frightened occupants, but this time it seemed to be only the lifeboat that was moving, not the entire ship. Kate blinked in confusion and looked up at the Boat Deck. The officers had regained their balance and were now releasing the ropes that would allow this, the very last lifeboat to be lowered to the ocean floor. Kate shook her head; this couldn't be right, there were still people up there – Barrett, her girls – and there was still room on the boat. How could they be lowering it now?

But evidently the crew had taken the _Titanic_'s horrible lurching as a sign that they could waste no more time, because they _were_ lowering the boat, they were. "Wait," Kate said quietly, then again louder, "wait!" She spun on her seat to look at Jim, feeling all the blood draining from her face, "Jim, the girls, they're still…they aren't…"

"I know Katie," Jim said gently, with such a brutal, painful finality that she knew that once again he had seen the situation for what it was, where she had not, "I know."

Kate turned back to the ship, watching the rails rise further and further overhead. Stranded people pressed frantically against the railings, finally, too late, allowed to rush forward. Kate gasped in horror, the noise turning into something between a shriek and a sob halfway out of her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and whirled around to bury her face in the front of Jim's coat, afraid that if she were to catch sight of one of her friends abandoned on the ship's decks she would start screaming and never stop.

Jim's arms went around her and held her tight. Kate clung to him with all her might, as though afraid that letting go would cause him to disappear, as though somehow he too would be snatched away from her and that this time there would be no miracle to bring him back. "Oh my God," Kate whispered brokenly, horrible reality sinking its teeth into her flesh,"Oh my God, I've lost 'em, I've lost 'em both."

At an apparent loss for comforting words to say, or any idea how to make this right, Jim rested his chin against the top of Kate's head and stroked her hair with fingers that she could feel shaking as they moved through her curls. She wanted to tell him that she was far more comforted by the sound of his heart beating strong and alive in her ear than she could have been by anything he said, but she did not trust herself to speak without sobbing.

_I'm sorry_, Kate thought desperately, hoping that her thoughts might somehow reach Mullins and Murphy alone up there on the deck, that they might know that she knew how badly she had failed them, _I'm so sorry_._ Forgive me._ The lifeboat, heedless of her grief, travelled mercilessly downward, leaving the two dearest girls Kate had ever known far behind.


	30. A Thousand Voices

**A/N:** Grrr. Argh. Ha. So I was stuck dog-sitting for my aunt for the better part of this week, and while this shoul dnot have affected the promptness of this update, it turns out that she not only has a distinct lack of a wireless connection (thus complicating updates from my laptop) but also a computer that may actually be older than me, and therefore, exceedingly glitchy and glacially slow. Hence, I update now, finally, when I am back home in the land of the technologically up-to-date, lol. Oh, and my kidneys seem to finally be behaving themselves again, so that is all very good. Anyhow, here is the chapter. It made me cry quite abruptly while I was editing it. That's really all you need to know. :)

Thanks as always to my best girls** LC**, **Vee**, and **Cookies** for their amazingly supportive reviews.

* * *

Kate and Jim remained like that, clinging to each other as though their lives depended on it as the boat bounced and jerked its way seaward. Kate, her face still hidden in the front of Jim's coat, did not look up at any point to monitor their descent. She did not think that she could bear to see what was going on around her; the images that her imagination supplied were bad enough. Kate was sure that the reality of what was happening would be enough to drive her out of her mind.

It seemed to take an eternity to lower the lifeboat. The list of the ship caused the little boat to hang unevenly on its ropes, making the process of getting it to the water below slow and laborious. Finally, Jim said, "Katie, I have te let go of ye now,"

She lifted her head and stared uncomprehendingly at him for half a second, then realised that they were about to settle onto the ocean's surface. "Oh…aye," Kate reluctantly backed out of the safety of Jim's embrace, allowing him room to take the oar that had earned him his place on the lifeboat.

Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, Kate hunched into her seat. The great black hull of the _Titanic_ loomed above their heads; the lifeboat seemed tiny and fragile in comparison. But Kate knew better, she knew that the majestic ocean liner that had once been akin to a palace on water was now nothing more than an enormous floating coffin. She shuddered, feeling sick to her stomach, and closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of the oars slapping against the waves. Kate counted strokes, trying to measure their distance from the ship. She was still afraid to look for herself, afraid of what she might see.

"Dear merciful God," A woman somewhere in front and to Kate's right exclaimed. The tone of the woman's voice was enough to force Kate to lift her head. She turned on her seat slowly, reluctantly, dreading what she was about to see but unable to put it off any longer.

The sight that met her eyes practically made Kate's heart stop. She heard the crewman, the one who had taken the other oar, swear under his breath and both he and Jim stopped rowing from sheer disbelief. Indeed, everyone in the little boat seemed to have frozen in place, watching the scene unfold with a kind of terrible awe.

The _Titanic_, pride of the White Star Lines, the glorious, glamorous ship of dreams, stood before them, her bow so far under water that waves were lapping at the edge of the decks where, not so long ago, they had stood waiting to board the lifeboat. Light still shone from all of her portholes, illuminating the otherwise pitch dark night. The ship's stern had risen clear out of the water, exposing the rudder and enormous propellers.

And the people, oh God the people. Kate's boat was far enough away for everyone on board to take in the entirety of the dying ship, but not so far off that they could not still clearly see what was happening on the _Titanic'_s decks. The tilt was so severe that people could barely keep upright. Kate could see passengers of all description clinging desperately to railings and stanchions and anything else that was fastened down. But it was a hopeless endeavour. Even as they watched, the ship slipped further beneath the surface, sending the stern flying up even higher. All around the decks people lost their grips on whatever they had been holding onto and fell, some plunging the length of the ship before being stopped by the freezing water. In many cases, however, it was something a great deal more solid than mere ocean that halted the descent of a falling passenger. Kate watched, horrified, as a man collided with one of the empty life boat davits and was tossed like a rag doll over the railings.

Kate wondered, with a wave of horror so intense that it made her lightheaded, what had become of Mullins and Murphy. Where were they in the panic and destruction up on deck? With Barrett still, trying to hang on, desperately hoping that if they could just keep their grip long enough they could swim free of the ship to safety? Had they been separated? Could Murphy, with her injured foot, even put up a fair fight? Which of those terrified screams belonged to her friends? The mental image of their faces, lost and terrified was so painful that Kate could have shrieked in agony. She clapped both hands to her mouth and bit down hard on the inside of her lip, drawing blood in the effort to keep from crying out.

Despite her efforts, Kate got the impression that she must have made some sort of noise after all, because she felt Jim make a sharp motion at her back and then suddenly he'd pulled her close again. Kate locked her hands into both of his, but did not look back at him. Where previously she had refused to watch what was happening to the ship, now she found herself unable to look away. They were the ones who had to stand witness to this tragedy; they were the ones who had to tell the story. As survivors, that was their burden to bear. If they didn't, who would? Kate clamped her jaw tight against the wordless sound of horror and grief that was still fighting its way up her throat and stared resolutely forward.

There was a flicker, the sounds of electrical static, and the ship was plunged into darkness. The cries of the stranded passengers grew louder, more frantic, as though the light had somehow made everything more bearable and now they were suddenly without their last source of comfort. It took a moment for Kate's eyes to adjust to the dark, but when they did she could see that the ship was more than half-way beneath the water now, the people on deck a swarm of dark shapes like ants. The back end of the ocean liner was so far out of the water that Kate couldn't fathom how such a thing was physically possible. She felt sure that the _Titanic_'s great weight should have pulled the ship below the surface by now.

It seemed as though the ship was going to continue in this manner, a torturously slow descent to the ocean floor. Then, without warning, something happened. A horrible, cracking, crunching roar issued from the stricken liner, cutting through the night like the blast from a bomb. The noise was so ear splitting that nearly everyone in the lifeboat gave yelps of alarm. Kate's hands flew to her ears and she winced at the deafening sound. She knew that it had been somehow caused by the ship, but she couldn't figure out what could have caused it to make such a noise.

"What was that?" Kate whispered, "What the Hell was that?"

As she watched, alternately mystified and full of dread, the stern seemed to momentarily right itself, crashing to sea with a force that rocked the little lifeboat, far away though it was. Kate could no longer see the bow at all, and she realised in a sudden burst of clarity, that the _Titanic_ had broken in two, snapped in half like a piece of kindling. She felt sure that the remaining part of the ship would soon follow the first, but then, to everyone's amazement and horror, the stern began to rise again, up and up, out of the water until it was hanging there perfectly perpendicular, an enormous accusatory finger pointing to the heavens.

"Holy Mother of God," Jim breathed somewhere behind Kate's left ear. She opened her mouth to make a reply and found herself incapable of forming words. There were no words that could possibly describe what she was seeing, what she was feeling.

The stern bobbed there for what seemed like an eternity, but what must have only been a matter of minutes. Then, as everyone watched, it began its final plunge. Straight down it went, with everyone on board pulled right along with it. Through the enormous noise of the water being dispelled by the sinking stern, the screams of the passengers still on board could be clearly heard. Kate found herself squeezing Jim's hands so hard that her fingers began to cramp, hard enough that she had to be hurting him. He either did not notice or did not care because he made no attempt to pull away. In disbelieving, horrified silence, the occupants of the lifeboats watched as the largest moving object in the world was swallowed by the ocean and disappeared forever.

For a brief moment it seemed to be over. Kate felt everyone in the boat deflate slightly, as though some great pressure had escaped them. And then the screaming started.

"Oh my God," Kate breathed, hearing her words echoed all across the boat as people realised what they were listening to. Kate dropped Jim's hands and turned to look at him properly for the first time since the lifeboat had hit the water. His face was utterly devoid of colour and the gaze he turned on Kate was full of the sickening shock that she was feeling herself.

It sounded like someone had let loose a stadium full of people somewhere in the darkness. These voices, however, had none of the joy and excitement that might accompany a regular crowd. The cries in the dark were instead full of pain and pleading, terrified, desperate and despairing.

Kate grabbed Jim's arm, her mouth and throat dry as sand, "Jim, we have te go back," she said urgently, "We have te see if we can help some of 'em,"

Though Kate had not yet intended for anyone to hear her suggestion but Jim, the woman beside her, the crying one in blue, spun around on her seat and gasped, "Yes, yes we can, we should. We can help them!" By the look on the poor woman's face, Kate had just given her back her very last shred of hope. For the first time since her undignified entry into the lifeboat she had stopped crying.

Unfortunately, the woman's exclamation had drawn more attention from the other passengers. "And what do you suggest we do once we get there?" A rough male voice demanded from the front of the lifeboat. Kate spotted him quickly, one of so few men among the crowd of women. She thought, by his mode of dress, that he might have been crew, but she wasn't sure. "We've got no room to be taking on more people,"

Kate felt her hackles go up, "An' ye'd rather be comfortable than save a life is that it?" she spat in disbelief.

"What I'd _rather_ is not get this boat swamped by people trying to get in it!" The man shot back, his face livid, "Let one of the other boats go,"

Jim came to Kate's rescue, "Ye daft arse, we're the closest boat an' ye know it," he said angrily, "Fer God's sake man, we can't just sit here!"

Another voice pitched in, a woman this time, with a note of hysteria in her tone, "But…but what if it's as this fellow says? What if they swamp us? We'll all die then!" Several other people spoke up at this, one or two expressing disgust at the woman's unwillingness to help, but most of the opinion that she was right, that going back put all of them at risk.

Kate could not believe what she was hearing. She looked at Jim, who shook his head aghast, and then out in the direction of the voices in the dark. She knew how cold the water was, how very little time those people had left. She felt positive that Mullins and Murphy were among that number. Barrett would have seen to it that the women survived the sinking itself, of course he would have. And now Kate had one last chance to save them all and she was being proven just as helpless as before.

Everyone in the boat was shouting at each other now, trying to get his or her opinion heard. Finally, it was the other rower – the young seaman whose name Kate still did not know – who decided to take control of the situation. He waved his arms and bellowed for everyone to shut up. His White Star uniform seemed to lend him a bit of authority, because the passengers immediately obeyed, grateful for someone to make the decision for them.

"All right," he said, sounding slightly unsure of himself. Kate got the impression that he had never had to command a group of people before, "We vote on it. That's the only fair way. Those in favour of going back, show of hands,"

Kate's hand shot up, as did Jim's and the woman in blue's. A few others raised their hands as well, but Kate could see without needing to count that they were far outnumbered. Kate felt bile rising in the back of her throat and she felt certain that she was going to be sick, but somehow managed to fight against it. Beside her, the woman in blue began to weep again, both hands coming up to cover her face.

"Damn you all te hell," Jim said under his breath, just loud enough that the people sitting closest could hear him. They had the decency to look shame-faced, but none of them changed their vote about going back.

The crying and pleading in the darkness continued, seeming to Kate even louder than before, even though she knew that it had to be weakening. She swivelled on her seat, trying to see if any of the other boats were turning back, but the few lifeboats that Kate could make out in the shadows, seemed just as disinclined to help as her own. Kate couldn't understand it, couldn't even fathom how such a thing was possible. Could they not hear them? How could anyone ignore that awful sound?

Suddenly it was too much, too much to endure. Kate couldn't stand it anymore. Not even aware that she was doing it, Kate brought both hands up to either side of her heads and pressed her palms to her ears, trying to shut out that unspeakable noise. She felt like crying or screaming or tearing at her hair and she squeezed her eyes closed, increased the pressure on her ears, and hunched into herself, forehead almost to her knees, trying not to see anything else, trying not to hear.

She might have ended up curled in a tiny ball on the floor of the lifeboat had Jim not caught her by the shoulders, "Kate?"

"Um…" That was the nameless seaman again, "If you wouldn't mind – we're drifting some and…"

"Find someone else te row the damn boat," Jim growled, still gripping Kate's shoulders, "I'm done with the lot o' ye,"

Kate, still folded nearly in half, her fists jammed against her ears, only vaguely registered this exchange. Jim attempted to pull her gently around to face him, met with resistance and tried again, more firmly this time. Kate gave in and allowed herself to be turned, but she refused to lower her hands or open her eyes.

"Kate?" Jim said again, "Katie, c'mon look at me," She shook her head, "please Kate, just open yer eyes,"

"I can't," Kate ground out through clenched teeth. She felt two large tears slip from beneath her closed lids and drop into her lap. The tears were so warm in the freezing air that they burned, "I can't, I can't Jim, I can't stand it. I don't want te hear anymore, or see anymore, I can't. I'll go insane,"

"Ye don't have te look at anythin' but me Katie," Jim urged gently, "Just look at me, I'm right here,"

Another tear escaped, and another, scalding her eyelids, her cheeks, "I _can't_, oh God, I know I…"

"Ye _can_," Jim repeated, "Please Kate, look at me. Please."

It was impossible to fight that gentle, insistent tone. Slowly, Kate blinked, feeling the water frozen to her lashes crackle, and allowed herself to look up. Kate's eyes locked on Jim's immediately, afraid to look anywhere else. The expression on his face was enough to break her heart, if she hadn't been sure that it was broken already.

"That's my girl," Jim said with a tiny smile. Very gently he pulled her clenched fists away from her ears and cupped her face in both hands, effectively blocking out most of the noise.

"They're all dead Jim," Kate choked out, "They're all really gone. I thought somehow…I thought…but they're gone, they're gone forever,"

Jim sighed and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, though his efforts were thwarted by the appearance of more tears, "Aye. But not me. I'm right here. An' I'm not goin' anywhere,"

That was all it took for the last of Kate's resolve to crumble completely. A sob ripped itself from her throat, then another and another until she was weeping outright. Kate buried her face in the front of Jim's coat and cried. She cried for Murphy and Mullins, and Barrett. She cried for Petra and Mathilde, and Jerry and Nora and all the other people she'd come to know on this trip. She cried for the people who had died on the boat, and the people dead and dying in the water, and she cried for the _Titanic_. The great ship of dreams, which everyone had held in such high esteem, had such grand hopes for, and which had buckled under the weight of their immense expectations.

"Oh Katie," Jim whispered against the top of her head, pulling her as close as he could into the protective circle of his arms, "I know. I know."


	31. As You Softly Sleep

**A/N:** FFN, WHAT IS WITH YOU EATING MY AUTHOR'S NOTES?!?! Seriously, I am not in the mood. BLARGHARBLE. At any rate, this freaking chapter was supposed to be posted last Sunday. ULTIMATE FAIL. Honestly, my goal of finishing this beast before April is rapidly flying out the window. I just do not have enough TIME. GAH. Oh well, it is what it is. You lucky peeps will just have to settle for being stuck with me a little longer. Muahahahah. Hah. Anyway, this chapter - Jim speaks! It's about time too; the poor boy hasn't had his say in things for, like, six chapters or something ridiculous. Which could be part of the reason why this section ended up being the longest in the story so far. Yeesh Jim, verbose much? Ooh, and I feel i should mention that we have officially passed the end of the musical, meaning that, as of the last chapter, you can feel free to look up the stage show without fear of spoilers. You know, if you were interested ;)

Thank you, thank you and again thank you to my best girls **LC** and **Vee** for their reviews on the last chapter. I will never be able to fully express how much it means to me that you've stuck with this story for so long.

* * *

It was bitterly cold and pitch dark, the only light available being the light from the stars. Jim, holding tight to Kate, his chin resting against the top of her head, wondered how on Earth anyone was going to find them out here, a tiny bedraggled fleet of lifeboats in the middle of the North Atlantic. He hoped – prayed really – that the _Titanic_ had gotten a message out to other ships, that someone was heading their way, but he had no way of knowing if that was true. For all Jim knew, the closest ship was miles and miles off. They could be doomed to float here for hours, a day even. It was a miserable, uncomfortable thought.

One small blessing though: Kate had stopped crying. Or at least, Jim supposed that she had. At the very least she was no longer sobbing like her heart had shattered into a million pieces. She was still curled so tightly against his chest that Jim knew that she was far from being comforted, but she wasn't crying. Jim had made up his mind that, if he had any say in the matter, Kate would never, ever have cause to cry like that again. It made his chest hurt to listen to, unable to do anything but pat her back and kiss her hair and whisper meaningless, pointless things that did not even come close to easing her pain.

Two women, in a bid to keep warm, had taken up Jim's oar, while another pair had volunteered to take the other. They had been paddling the boat around in aimless figure eights, until an officer in one of the other boats had lit a flare and ushered them over. It appeared that the officer – who had identified himself as Lowe – was gathering a number of lifeboats together. As they approached, Jim could see that one or two of the boats were hardly full at all, and Lowe was in the process of transferring passengers from one of the near-empty boats into another, leaving the officer with an empty boat to himself and a few other crewmen.

Jim watched the proceedings with curiosity, keeping half an eye on Kate. He got the impression that Lowe intended to go back to the site of the sinking and look for survivors. In this cold though, Jim didn't think the man had acted nearly fast enough, though it was to the officer's credit that he was acting at all.

"He's not gonna find anyone," Kate said quietly. Jim jumped and looked down at her in surprise. Up until two minutes ago, she'd still had her face hidden in the front of his coat; Jim had not noticed her shift her position. She had moved, however, and was now gazing at Lowe's little cluster of lifeboats, with eyes still puffy from crying, "It's too late. Listen,"

Jim, of course, had been listening, for the past twenty minutes, to the voices of the people stranded in the water. The anguished chorus had petered out to nothing more than a few scattered cries here and there. Jim could not even be sure that the voices he heard were not coming from people in the other lifeboats. He sighed heavily, searching for some word of reassurance and finding none. He simply couldn't bring himself to lie to her, "Aye," he said reluctantly. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, realising, belatedly, that this was the first he'd seen of Kate's face in almost a half hour. He was immeasurably relieved to have her back in something resembling her usual state of mind. That said, however, she seemed to be making a concentrated effort to avoid looking at him; she was staring rather fixedly at the floor of the lifeboat. Jim touched her cold cheek with the back of his hand, "Katie?"

Kate still didn't lift her gaze, but she pulled just slightly out of his embrace, passing the back of one hand across her red-rimmed eyes, "Aye Jim Farrell?" she replied after a moment.

If Jim was not entirely out of his mind, then Kate was actually embarrassed by her earlier behaviour, as though there was something shameful in the way she'd broken down. It was ridiculous– it wasn't as though he hadn't seen her cry before. But not like that, of course, not such a total and complete disintegration of emotion. Jim got the distinct impression, not for the first time, that Kate was not the sort of person who allowed herself to dissolve so thoroughly. Still, he was bothered that she seemed to think he'd judge her for it. As though he'd care for even a moment, Jim thought incredulously, as though he'd ever think less of her.

Taking a firm hold of Kate's upper arms, he pulled her around to face him. Kate complied readily enough, but chose to stare at an imaginary point of interest on his left shoulder rather than meet his eyes. Jim tapped a finger beneath her chin, "I'm up here Kate,"

She rolled her eyes – such a familiar gesture that it almost brought a lump to Jim's throat to see it – and reluctantly looked up at him. Jim gave her a tiny smile, "Hello," he gently, "welcome back,"

Kate flushed slightly, then shivered, "Oh Jim," she said heavily, wrapping both arms around her body in an attempt to keep warm, "I didn't mean fer ye te have te…"

"That better not be an apology I'm hearin' Kate McGowan," Jim interrupted, giving her a stern look, "Ye've got nothin' te be sorry fer,"

"Oh aye, nothin' but actin' like an hysterical arse," Kate replied, sounding angry with herself, "Goin' off like a right lunatic female, no use te anybody. Ye expected more've me then that."

Jim made an exasperated noise, "Are ye bloody daft? Don't tell me what I expected of ye, ye idiot woman. I'd've been more worried if ye _hadn't_ got so upset." He shook his head, "Now stop talkin' such nonsense."

Kate stared at him for a beat, then brought both hands to her mouth, suddenly looking watery-eyed again, "Jim…"

"Jesus God," Jim said, blanching. He cupped her face in his palms, "Don't start cryin' again Kate; I didn't mean nothin',"

"It's not that," Kate said quietly, putting her hands over his, "It's just…I never thought I'd be so glad te hear ye call me daft in me whole life. I came so close te losin' you too," She managed a small, wobbly smile that made Jim feel as though someone had just punched him in the gut.

"C'mere," He said gruffly, pulling her into his arms with enough force that she squeaked, "Yer freezin' cold." Whether or not Kate actually believed that this was the reason behind the sudden embrace, she made no complaint.

Their lifeboat had reached the little fleet assembled by Lowe, but the officer had already headed out on his likely futile mission to find survivors. After a quick conference between the White Star crewman on Jim's boat and the crew who were in charge of manning the others, the oars were pulled in and the new arrival was lashed to one of the boats to keep in from floating away.

Jim couldn't tell how many people were in each lifeboat. He thought there were a few over forty in his own, which was one of the smaller collapsible models. In the bigger boats there might have been room for over sixty, but it didn't appear as though many of them had been filled to capacity. That made Jim furious. A ship full of people about to die, and no one had even made sure that the lifeboats were being properly filled? The thought of how many more people might have been saved made him sick. He hoped to God that Kate hadn't noticed; she was upset enough as it was. Jim tightened his grip on her, as though this might shield her from the awful facts.

Despite Jim's arms around her, Kate was shivering violently. Jim could hear her teeth chattering. "D'ye think there's a ship comin' te pick us up?" Kate asked, her eyes scanning the dark expanse of ocean surrounding them. It was a desolate, lonely landscape; it made Jim feel like they were the last people alive in the world.

Still, he thought that this was one area at least, in which he could provide some comfort, "Sure there is," he said, pleased to find that he sounded confident in this opinion, "More'n one I'd bet."

Kate nodded. Jim, for the first time that night, took a proper look at her. She was ghostly pale, her eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled, and her lips had taken on a distinctly bluish tint. She was sitting hunched, her arms still wrapped protectively around her middle, a posture that Jim had initially taken for defence against the cold. It occurred to him suddenly, with an unpleasant twist of his stomach, that this might not be entirely true. Jim hadn't forgotten, precisely, the small fact of Kate's pregnancy, but rather he'd been so focused on just Kate, and making sure that Kate was safe, that he'd put it temporarily out of his mind. Her life, at that point, had been all that mattered. Now, he realised with alarm, she might not yet be entirely safe, that if…something…were to happen, there would not be a damned thing he could do to help her.

"Katie?" Jim asked softly, taking in her pinched expression and blue-tinged extremities with new concern, "Are ye feelin' all right?"

Somehow she seemed to understand to what he was referring, because she gave him a shrewd sideways look and nodded, "Aye, I'm fine," she said, "bit cold"

"Well, I know, but I mean…"

"I know what ye mean," Kate assured him with a wry twitch of her lips, "An' I'm fine."

Jim didn't know whether to believe her or not. He'd never paid much attention to the ins and outs of pregnancy, but he did recall his mother making a fuss when Clara had been pregnant with her first child, insisting that she stay off her feet and take it easy. Jim had surmised from this that expectant mothers were, generally speaking, not supposed to over exert themselves. Thus, he couldn't imagine that the emotional trauma that Kate had just endured – was still enduring come to that – was good for her _or_ the baby. And the cold probably wasn't helping much either.

Kate was staring at him with that look she got when she was clearly trying to read his thoughts. It couldn't have been much of an effort this time around because she touched his cheek with one ice-cold hand and said, "Jim, I swear I'm all right. I'll tell ye if I think…if somethin's wrong, aye?"

"All right then," Jim said, still not entirely convinced. He decided that he wasn't going to be happy until a ship showed up and he got his poor girl out of this Godforsaken lifeboat and somewhere she could get warm and rest properly, "You make sure ye say somethin' though. If ye start feelin' off."

If she was thinking about pointing out that there wasn't a hell of a lot he'd be able to do even if she _did_ tell him, Kate refrained. Instead she leaned against him heavily, tucking her half-frozen hands into her sleeves for warmth, "Never felt anythin' so cold as this," she said quietly, staring out at the spot where Lowe's boat had disappeared in the shadows.

Jim rubbed her upper arms to try to work some heat into her body, but he was just as frozen as Kate was and it did very little good, "Didn't ye have gloves Kate?" He asked, trying to distract her from what she was obviously thinking; that if the air was this cold then the water must be a thousand times worse. And Lowe had not returned yet.

"They were in me pocket," Kate replied, "I guess I dropped 'em somewhere…somewhere…" she trailed off, unable to say the words "below deck", when those very decks were now somewhere far, far beneath them on the ocean floor. She shivered and Jim got the feeling that this had nothing to do with the cold.

Though she was already practically on his lap, Jim tugged Kate just slightly closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She caught hold of his hands, and though Jim thought it would be wiser for her to keep them tucked into her sleeves, it was comforting, the now-familiar feel of her fingers linked through his, and he didn't make her let go. Jim could think of nothing to say to her. Kate, however, seemed at ease with his silence, perhaps even grateful for it; her attention was focused on watching for Lowe's boat to come back.

Jim didn't think that Kate actually believed that the officer was going to find any of her friends alive. She had said as much already, that the water was too cold, that the rescue had taken too long to organise. But Jim also understood that hope came to Kate like breathing, and until every last chance had been exhausted, she could not allow herself to fully give up. That was just her way. It was a quality, Jim thought, that could make a person love her.

It was another twenty minutes before the sound of oars hitting the water reached the ears of the people waiting in the lifeboats. Though a few people from the various boats had been engaged in subdued conversation, everyone fell silent. Jim could feel tension on all sides as the occupants of the lifeboats sat up a little straighter, straining to see through the dark how many, if any at all, Lowe was bringing back, and if those few lucky souls would be one of their loved ones. Kate, true to her nature, leaned forward the tiniest bit, her grip on Jim's hands tightening compulsively.

Lowe pulled his boat up to the bedraggled little fleet. It was immediately apparent that he had managed to save hardly anyone; only six or seven additional people had been loaded into his lifeboat. Jim, squinting at the new arrivals, could not make out any of their faces clearly.

"Only four from the water," Lowe said to another officer, who was busy towing the rescue boat in to join the rest. He was talking very quietly, but the night was so still, and the observing crowd so deadly silent, that the words carried as though he'd shouted them, "The rest were in a half-swamped collapsible – 'A' I think. God, what a nightmare; I'll never get that out of my head."

Jim heard Kate suck in a little breath, and he squeezed her hands. He could only imagine what Lowe had seen. The image Jim's mind conjured up, one of frozen lifeless corpses floating in the water like so much common debris, was bad enough. He knew that, in Kate's imagination, every one of those bodies bore the face of a person she cared about.

Lowe began transferring the rescued passengers who were well enough to move out of his boat into the others, where they might benefit from some shared body heat. It became readily apparent that most of the people were men. Only one woman, her dress sodden from neck to hemline, stood up to be shifted to another boat.

"Rosa Abbott," Kate said quietly, her eyes following the dark-haired woman's progress, "She had a room near us. She has two boys…but I don't see 'em here." She sagged back against Jim with a long shuddering sigh, her last hope for Mullins and Murphy carried away on that frost-bitten exhale of breath, "Guess that's it then."

Jim stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head but said nothing. The expectant air dissipated from the rest of the lifeboats as well as everyone slowly realised that their loved ones really were gone, and not coming back. In the face of this reality, no one spoke, lost in a grief that isolated them from each other even as it linked them all together. The quiet was absolute, deafening in its totality.

Kate did not start crying again, which did not really come as a surprise to Jim. She seemed to be at a point beyond tears, a point at which her grief was so deep that the only way to survive the pain of it was to make yourself numb. Jim, searching the faces of the other people in the lifeboat, thought that most of the survivors shared similar mindsets. Their pale faces were almost blank, expressionless, as though letting themselves feel anything at all would be their undoing. Jim understood; if he was being honest with himself, he felt exactly the same way.

For a long time there was no noise but the faint rustle of clothes when someone shifted position, and the hollow sound of the tethered lifeboats knocking together. At one point an officer in a lifeboat a little ways off from Lowe's group lit a green flare, and the sound of the fuse igniting made everyone jump as though the man had fired a gun. It felt to Jim that this night was never going to end, that they were just going to drift there in this vast, freezing, purgatory until time itself ceased to exist. Already he was losing any sense of how long they had been out there. It could have been minutes, or hours, he couldn't have guessed. They seemed to be in a void, an endless stretch of absolutely nothing.

But no, not nothing, not quite: there was still Kate. Kate, who at that moment had taken one of his hands in both of hers and was pressing it between her palms, kneading his fingers in a bid to get the blood flowing through them again, despite the fact that her own fingertips were purple-blue with cold. She sensed him staring at her and looked up, "It helps," she said, in a voice that was barely a whisper, afraid to disturb the pristine silence, "If yer fingers're as cold as mine, I figured ye wouldn't mind,"

"I don't," Jim replied, just as quietly. He laid his free hand on top of hers, "But ye ought te put yer hands in yer sleeves. It'll keep 'em warmer."

Unconsciously echoing his earlier sentiment Kate said, "I'd rather hang on te you, if that's all right."

Jim smiled slightly and kissed her fingers, "That's just fine," he assured her.

This didn't quite manage to coax a genuine smile out of Kate, but Jim was sure her saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She leaned against him wearily, resting her head in the hollow of his collarbone. In the distance, the green light from the unseen officer's flare bobbed along, illuminating a small patch of ocean with sickly emerald. Jim could sense, rather then see Kate tracking the light with her eyes, "How many of us d'ye think there are?" She asked after a moment.

"Dunno," Jim glanced around at the surrounding lifeboats. There were six tied together under Lowe's command, and the one belonging to the green flare, but Jim had counted fifteen or so davits when he'd been up on the Boat deck. Clearly there were a number of other boats still paddling aimlessly around the area, "Must be a fair few though. Little over a thousand maybe?" He couldn't imagine how it would be less then that.

"Hmmmm," Kate said by way of reply. Jim wondered if she too had noticed how empty some of the boats were. There was another protracted pause and then she said, in such a small voice that Jim almost didn't catch it, "D'ye think they were angry at me?"

Jim knew immediately who she was talking about. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling an unexpected pain in his chest at the anguish in Kate's voice, "Katie…no, 'course not. Why would they've been?"

Kate half-shrugged, and chewed her lower lip, "Because I got on a boat. Because I didn't have te…I didn't end up in the…" She shook her head unable to finish either thought, "We were all supposed te get off that ship together. An' I left 'em behind,"

"That isn't true," Jim said sharply, "Murphy an' Mullins knew what they were doin' when they told ye te go on without 'em. They knew ye didn't want te leave…"

"'Course I didn't," Kate said, her voice rising slightly. The people nearest to her in the boat shot her disconcerted looks, and she dropped the volume again, "But I went anyway,"

Jim took her face in his hands, "D'ye know what would've made 'em angry? Knowin' that ye think they'd rather ye'd've died with 'em. They'd be furious at ye fer thinkin' that,"

Kate blinked and dropped her gaze to her lap. She sat there, shivering in silence for a long time. "I don't know how te do it," she said finally, "how te make what they did worth it. I don't know how te live fer all three of us,"

It was a monstrous task, carrying the crushing weight of knowing that someone else had died so that you might live. Jim understood that fully. He rested his forehead against hers, "Just live fer you then," he said, "An' that'll be enough," Though he sounded confident in this assertion, Jim wasn't sure that it would ever really be true. They were survivors now, and there was a price that came with the title.

As though sensing his doubt, Kate pressed her lips together and nodded slowly, without any real conviction. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin, "I'm awful cold," she whispered, and in those words Jim read all the other unspoken things she was feeling, the bone-deep ache of sorrow.

"I know," Jim replied, making slow circles between her shoulder blades with the palm of his hand, "But it'll get better soon enough," If nothing else, he thought, they had each other, and that might be the thing that would ultimately save them both.


	32. Til Your Port be Found

**A/N: **Wow, wow, WOW. Way to fail massively at updating. Pardon me while I headdesk myself into a coma. But seriously, I have an excuse I SWEAR. My latest show opened and closed over the course of the past three weeks and that pretty much effectively destroyed any free time I might have had. Then, cue in the post-show withdrawel and several other dramas of the personal sort, and really it's amazing I got this chapter written at all. But here it is!!!! And now folks, I can tell you that there are officially three more chapters following this one and then this fic is DONE. I'm actually going to cry I think, when I post the last chapter. But yes, one more Jim, then two Kates and that's all folks. Originally Jim had the penultimate chapter, but he insisted that it belonged to Kate. As I have learned not to argue with these kids once they've made up their minds, I'm letting them have it their way. :)

Huge, huge, huge thanks to **LC** and **Vee**, not just for reviewing, but also for being the most amazingly supportive and awesome people EVER over the past month. You guys are amazing and I love you dearly.

And lastly - the 98th anniversary of the _Titanic_'s sinking was this past Wednesday into Thursday. For reasons beyond just the writing of this fic, the tragedy has become much more personal to me recently, and I was considerably moved to think about the sinking that night. Thus, I dedicate this chapter to the 1517 people who lost their lives on April 15, 1912 (including, for the record, the REAL Jim Farrell and Katherine McGowan), and the 711 survivors who had to live with the memory the rest of their lives.

* * *

Somehow, despite everything, dawn came. Jim registered the break of the new day slowly, not at first aware of the way that his surroundings were becoming lighter, more defined. He had gotten used to the darkness, the illogical notion that this night was never going to end. But somehow, it seemed the world had kept on turning as though nothing at all had happened, and now on the horizon the faintest ribbon of light had woven itself between the line of sky and ocean.

The pale light reflected thin and grey, draped over the devastatingly empty expanse of sea like a funeral shroud. It was hard to believe that only a little over five hours earlier this space had been occupied by the grandest ship in the world. An entire floating city had sunk beneath the waves, and there was no sign of it at all. If it had not been for the scattered band of life boats bobbing about on the slate-coloured water as testament to what had occurred in this spot, the _Titanic_ might have seemed like nothing more than a particularly lucid dream.

Jim glanced down at the top of Kate's head. She had been very still and quiet for the last half hour or so, but he knew, from the way she occasionally shifted position to investigate a sudden noise or movement, that she wasn't sleeping. Too much on her mind to allow her to rest, Jim supposed. But he hoped she might have managed to doze at least.

He nudged her gently, intending to point out the first signs of daybreak, but before he could say anything, Kate lifted her head and said, "Did ye hear that?"

"Hear what?" Jim asked, confused by her sudden alertness. He glanced around and found that several other occupants of their boat had likewise sat up straighter and were all focused intently on something in the distance.

"Listen," Kate said, but by then Jim had already become aware of the noise that had first caught her attention: engines, big ones, and ocean churning as something large passed through it, familiar sounds that came at them through the grey light like ghosts. "I think there's a ship comin',"

Swivelling in his seat, Jim turned in the direction of the sound. And yes, there, coming out of the darkness that still lay to the west was a bright blue light, the sort that big ships fixed to their prow to signal others in the area. Behind the light, Jim could make out the shadowed outline of the approaching liner, the blackness of her single funnel against the steadily lightening sky. She was still a ways off and moving rather slowly; Jim got the impression that the ship – or, more accurately, the people in charge of her – were looking for something.

As if reading his thoughts, Kate said, "I think they're stoppin'…it's like they're expectin' somethin' te be there,"

Jim realised with an unpleasant jolt that this was exactly the problem; the new ship was nearly adjacent to the spot where the _Titanic_ had once been. The captain would have expected to find the great liner in distress, but surely he wasn't prepared to find that she was gone entirely. No one had been prepared for that.

"They didn't know," He said quietly in Kate's ear, "They didn't know that the _Titanic_ foundered. They thought they'd be able te see her still."

Kate nodded mutely, her eyes fixed on the ship in the distance. It was still too dim, and the liner still too far away to make out any distinguishing features besides the lone funnel. That alone, however, was enough to tell Jim that the rescue ship was considerably smaller then the _Titanic_ had been, a mere tug boat in comparison.

After a moment, Kate said, "Can they see us d'ye think? Do they know we're out here?" There was a note of apprehension in her voice that told Jim that she had been feeling much the way he had; that they were going to float around out here in the middle of the Atlantic for the rest of eternity. Even with the evidence of imminent rescue right before their eyes it was hard to believe otherwise.

Jim squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, "Even if they don't they aren't gonna leave without havin' a look first," he said, "We'll be out o' here soon Katie, you wait an' see,"

As if to prove his point, a green flare burst to life in the distance and began waving in long, trailing arcs back and forth in the air above the lifeboat whose position it marked. It was still too dark out for Jim to make out any details about the officer who had had the foresight to bring along the flares, but whoever the man was he seemed to have taken it upon himself to catch the attention of the rescue ship; Jim could hear him urging his oarsmen to row faster.

In Jim's lifeboat, and the boats nearby, the survivors watched with a sort of detached curiosity. They should have been overjoyed at the prospect of salvation, at the very least happy that they might finally be able to escape the cramped confines of the lifeboats, the numbing cold of the air, but no one seemed to have the energy. Cold, exhaustion, grief, all had done their work on the sad remnants of the _Titanic_'s passengers and crew; no seemed able to do more than track the progress of the green flare with their eyes and wait. They were all, Jim reflected grimly, getting very good at waiting.

"Thought I'd be happy te see someone come fer us," Kate said, once again proving her uncanny knack for voicing exactly what he was thinking.

Jim shook his head, bemused at her unwitting ability to read his mind, and combed his fingers through her hair, "Hard te be happy all things considered," he said, "but aren't ye relieved just a bit?"

Because she had returned her head to its resting place just beneath his chin, Jim felt rather then saw her grimace, "I s'pose. Aye, sure I am," she replied slowly, "But mostly…mostly I'm just awful tired,"

"Aye," Jim said, touching the back of one hand to her cheek - her skin was so cold it felt like stroking marble – and brushing a few stray curls out of her eyes, "me too,"

They fell back into silence. The green flared lifeboat had pulled alongside the rescue ship and Jim could hear male voices shouting back and forth to each other. They were too far off for the conversation to be clearly heard, but Jim didn't need to hear to know what was being said. The captain of the new ship was hearing the story, the first person outside of the Ship of Dreams' little universe to know the terrible truth. Jim wondered if the man fully realised what he was being told, if he could comprehend the scope of the disaster. What did they look like to their rescuers? A handful of sad, pale, wounded souls, outnumbered by their ghosts; they must have been a truly pathetic sight indeed.

Still, the contact between that first lifeboat and the ship seemed to breathe some life back into this patch of ocean that had begun to feel so dead and deserted. Though people did not cheer or exclaim, many of them sat up straighter, looked more alert. Even the woman beside Kate, the one in blue who had been nearly catatonic for the better part of the last two hours stopped staring unblinkingly at the lifeboat floor and lifted her head to observe the rescuers. The officers and crew who had ended up in the boats in particular were galvanised back to the land of the living. The arrival of help gave them purpose again, a task to fulfill besides just switching around who was rowing and worrying about whether or not their boat was drifting. Officer Lowe, who had been silent and dejected for the last while, was on his feet in no time, instructing the other crewmen to untie the lifeboats from one another and to head towards the ship.

"Not too close though," he ordered, "Make yourselves visible, but don't crowd. They can only unload one or two boats at a time. We'll do this civilised."

Other lifeboats had appeared now as well, ones that had never been a part of Lowe's fleet. Jim counted three more rowing in from all sides bringing the total visible boats to ten. He was still fairly certain that there were at least fifteen lifeboats in total, possibly more, which meant that a large complement of _Titanic_ survivors had yet to come into view.

"There's a fair few of us out here Kate," Jim said, pointing out the newly arrived lifeboats, "It'll be ages 'fore we get near that ship. Ye ought te try an' get some sleep."

Kate shook her head, "I don't think I can,"

Jim looked down at her and smiled slightly, "Don't worry, I'll wake ye when it's close te our turn. Ye won't miss nothin',"

"It's not that," Kate said with a sigh, "It's just…I keep thinkin'…I can't stop thinkin'. And I'm afraid o' what I might see if I sleep. It's easier te stay awake."

That, Jim understood. Understood far, far too well. "Aye, well…Ye'll have te sleep sometime Katie, yer worn out,"

Kate flashed him a tight, humourless smile, "Aye, sometime. Not now."

For about the fiftieth time that night, Jim found that he had no way of comforting her. He made a small helpless gesture with one hand and brushed her temple with his thumb, "If I could make it better…"

"Just be here," Kate said, taking his hand and planting a light kiss in his palm, "be here with me. That makes it better." She turned back to watching the ship and the lifeboats vying for their spot in line, "It's gonna take a while ye think?"

Jim had such a lump in his throat that it was a moment before he could speak. He swallowed hard, "Could be hours," he said.

Kate nodded, "Well. What's a few more hours?" she asked wearily, "At least it'll end eventually, aye?"

"It will at that," Jim agreed, not needing clarification as to what she meant. The formerly interminable night finally had a time-frame, a real tangible end-point. And that, at least was something.

As Jim had predicted, getting the survivors out of the lifeboats and onto the ship proved a time-consuming and delicate task. The water was no longer flatly calm as it had been the night before, and the choppy ocean made moving people in and out of the little boats much more difficult. The first class women, in their long hobble skirts and high-heeled shoes were particularly unsuited to the kind of agility needed to keep one's footing in a rocking boat, and they looked terrified at the prospect of having to climb from the relative safety of the lifeboat to the rope ladder that was the only means of transporting people up to the ship's decks. Anyone who was unable to climb was being lifted to the deck in a canvas sling, a process that, to Jim's eyes, looked even worse than using the ladder.

"Can ye make the climb d'ye think Kate?" Jim asked, watching a well-dressed young woman being hoisted with agonising slowness up to the deck. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she looked utterly petrified.

Beside him, Kate made an incredulous noise, "I should hope," she said with a wry twist to the corner of her mouth, "They aren't gonna be liftin' me up there like a bloody sack o' potatoes, that's fer sure an' certain,"

Jim half-smiled, "Thought ye'd say that. But yer exhausted, and ye've been sittin' an awful long time Kate, an' yer legs are gonna be stiff,"

"I'll be fine," Kate repeated, shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye, "I'll go slow,"

"All right, but I'm just sayin'," Jim persisted, "If ye feel like yer gonna fall…"

Kate looked at him, her head canted slightly to one side as though puzzled by his statement, "You won't let me fall,"

Jim blinked at her, and then, wisely, decided to shut up. Kate, satisfied that he believed her, tucked herself back under his arm and resumed her position curled against his shoulder.

Their boat was still a ways away from rescue. The collapsible was so full that it was riding much lower in the water than was strictly ideal for the current ocean conditions. Officer Lowe had taken it upon himself to hitch the smaller boat to his own, and was now making the laborious trip towards the rescue ship, towing Jim's lifeboat along behind.

Dawn had come in earnest by then, bathing the area in gold-tinged pink. There was ice all around, small bergs and thick white sheets that barely cleared the surface of the water, mixed with giants that were bigger than the lifeboats. All of these frozen wonders glowed rose with the light of the new day, beautiful and desolate at the same time. Jim wondered dimly if one of those enormous bergs had been responsible for the _Titanic_'s demise. Ironic now, to see them so cheerfully lit.

Alongside the ship, the last few men were scurrying up the ladders from their lifeboat. Jim had lost count of how many of the boats had been emptied by then, six maybe, probably more. And now it seemed, as the liner crept forward to meet Lowe halfway, that their boat would be next. Relief did win out over fatigue then, flooding through Jim's body like warm rain. Finally, finally they would be free of this God awful haunted place.

"_Carpathia_," Kate said beside him, in a voice so quiet that Jim wasn't sure that she'd intended to speak out loud.

Confused, Jim frowned at the top of her head and tried to follow her gaze, "What?"

Kate pointed. Her fingertips, Jim noticed, were still faintly blue, "The ship, that's her name. _Carpathia_. I couldn't see 'til just now."

Jim looked up at the cautiously approaching ship and spotted the name, painted in white block capitals on the liner's black hull. For some reason that Jim couldn't quite explain, the sight caused a chill to run the length of his spine. Maybe because this ship, that he was quite certain no one in the general population had ever heard of, was about to become the most famous in the world. Or the second most famous at least, he amended silently. _Titanic_ and _Carpathia_ were going to be linked together in memory for a very long time now. Longer than Jim cared to imagine.

The _Carpathia_ shuddered to a halt as close as she could to the two lifeboats, and Lowe, instructing his oarsmen in a calm, measured voice, closed the rest of the gap. The ladders were once again tossed from the open gangway and Lowe roped the boats to the side of the ship to keep them from drifting away.

"People from the collapsible first," Lowe ordered, "They're nearly underwater already," This was a slight exaggeration; a large swell did occasionally lap over the canvas sides of the smaller lifeboat, and there was a good inch or two of seawater on the floor, but they were not really in any danger of capsizing. Still and all, Jim was grateful for anything that got them – Kate specifically – onto the ship faster.

Two little boys, seemingly parentless, went first, lifted to the decks in large canvas sacks. A number of the _Carpathia_'s passengers had appeared from their cabins by this time, and were watching the proceedings with undisguised curiosity. When the children were deposited onto the ship's deck, a female passenger immediately whisked them away to be looked after. Women were the next to be unloaded. Jim gripped Kate's shoulders tightly, anxious to get her to the front of the line.

Kate seemed to sense his intention because she said firmly, "Jim Farrell, if ye think I'm headin' up there without you followin' right behind me ye've got another thing comin',"

Jim sighed in exasperation, "Kate I want ye off this boat. The faster the better,"

"Not without you," Kate repeated.

The set to her jaw, a sight that was growing increasingly familiar, told Jim that there was no point in arguing with her, but he tried anyway, "Ye won't be without me fer long, just as long as it takes fer the rest o' the women te board."

"Have ye been watching how slow they're goin?" Kate demanded, jerking her chin in the direction of the fancy first class lady who was currently riding the sling to the decks, "I'm stayin' here with you if it means goin' last. Another hour in this boat isn't gonna kill me."

"Christ yer a damnably stubborn wee bint, ye know that?" Jim grumbled, not without a touch of fondness creeping into his voice.

Kate squeezed his hand, "Aye, I know that," she said. There was a brief pause and then she added in a much smaller voice, "Jim, don't make me go without ye, please?"

Jim looked at her, at her pale upturned face that was still etched with grief, and felt his mild annoyance evaporate. It was easy to forget, with Kate, just how much of her bravado was put on for everyone else's benefit. He kissed her forehead, "I won't. I promise."

As it turned out, Kate had nothing to worry about. Her seat in the boat – near the back and on the side furthest from the ship – logistically made her one of the last women in line. When the officers overseeing the unloading got to her, they took one look at her defiant gaze and the way she was gripping Jim's hands for dear life and said to him, "You can follow your girl if you like. Help her into the sling then go on up the ladder,"

"I'm climbin'," Kate informed the man firmly, getting to her feet. She was wobbly from sitting for so long, and had to lean against Jim for a moment to get her legs under her, "An' he'd better be right behind, ye hear?"

The officer nodded his acquiescence, "That'll be just fine love," he said kindly, "Now up you go,"

Still unsteady on her feet, Kate clung tightly to Jim's arm and the arm of one of the officers as she clambered over the edge of the lifeboat and onto the ladder. For all her big talk, Jim highly suspected that she was regretting not allowing herself to be lifted to the decks. She had to stop several times during her ascent, her hands white knuckled and her jaw clenched, taking deep breaths before she could continue. Jim, who as promised, had been permitted to follow directly after Kate, watched her like a hawk from several feet below, cursing her stubbornness. It would be just like Kate to get this far only to have her damned Irish pride kill her when she plummeted off of the ladder from sheer exhaustion.

"Go on Katie, yer almost there," Jim urged, when she paused again. "I'm right behind ye."

Kate shot him a look over her shoulder that clearly said, 'Jim Farrell stop distractin' me or I'll take ye with me when I fall' and began climbing again. Jim smiled, proud of her for all that he was terrified that she was going to plunge to her death, and hastened to keep up.

The _Carpathia_'s passengers and crew were watching her progress too apparently, and the moment that Kate got within reach, several pairs of strong hands caught her by her arms and the shoulders of her life vest and heaved her bodily onto the deck. Jim, immeasurably grateful to see Kate pulled to safety, but not feeling comfortable having her out of his sight, picked up his pace. It wasn't easy though; every muscle in his body ached, and with each rung he climbed his hands and arms protested fiercely.

It was a surreal moment when Jim finally reached the top of the ladder and was helped onto the _Carpathia_'s deck. The stability of the big liner felt strange after hours of rocking in the lifeboat, and to be surrounded by people, active, cheerful people whose faces bore no signs of exhaustion, or grief, or fear felt dreamlike and backwards. Jim blinked stupidly as he was guided away from the edge of the gangway feeling as though he was crossing from one world into another. A blanket was thrown around his shoulders, and several voices began asking him questions, but he shook his head dumbly and registered none of it.

Everything became real again when Kate, also wrapped in a heavy wool blanket bearing the _Carpathia_'s name, broke free of a pair of women who were fussing over her and rushed into his arms. The feel of her back beneath his hands, the smell of her hair, the surprising strength of her arms around his neck grounded him, brought him back to earth. Her voice muffled by the front of his coat, Kate said, "Don't ye let go of me or I'll fall,"

Jim pressed his lips against the top of her head, and hugged her fiercely, "Never," he said, "never."


	33. Quiet as a Lullaby

**A/N:** One down, two to go! TWO MORE CHAPTERS PEOPLE. TWO. I'm feeling pre-emptively bereft. Anyway, this is Jim's last chapter. I mean, he's _in_ the next two, obviously, but those are both Kate's POV (we haven't heard from her in three chapters! Weirdness; she's never this quiet), so consider this Jim's farewell to the readership. Yeah it kind of makes me sad too.

In other, much more important news, however, I must inform you all that it is my very dear friend **Vee**'s birthday today. Vee (known 'round these parts as **viennacatabile**) is one of the loveliest, most talented people I have ever had the pleasure of having live in my computer, and she has been an enormous supporter of not only this fic, but me in general. She's writing an absolutely brilliant chapter fic based on another of my fav musicals, West Side Story. If you like this fic, then you should for sure be going to check out hers. It's called_ fell the angels_ and you can find it in the Movie header under West Side Story. Go read it now. GO I SAY!!! And finally, Happy Birthday Vee!!!! You are awesome beyond awesome. Thanks for everything.

A-a-a-a-a-nd of course, the usual thanks are extended to last chapter's reviewers **HedgehogQuill** (the artist formerly known as LC) and **Cookies**, and the above mentioned **Vee**. You guys are, as always, amazing.

* * *

It was very quiet. It should have been a cacophony on the _Carpathia_'s decks, with all the people milling around, but instead there was very little human noise, only a low hum of subdued conversation, the occasional distinct word or phrase called here or there, usually by one of the crew overseeing the rescue. Even the _Carpathia_'s passengers spoke in low voices, even whispers, as though they were attendants at the world's largest wake. Which, Jim supposed, was not so very far from the truth.

Kate was still in his arms, watching the steadily growing crowd of survivors with a sad, tired expression that was so old and world-beaten that it nearly broke Jim's heart to see it. He put one finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his, "Are ye all right Kate? D'ye need te sit down an' rest fer a bit?"

She shook her head, "No, I want te see…" she paused and closed her eyes briefly, looking utterly exhausted despite her protests, "I want te see who else is here,"

Jim frowned and surveyed the survivors nearest; they were easy to spot, not only because of the fact that each of them had been bundled into a warm blanket, but because they all bore that same slightly bewildered lost look on their faces. Jim could not see a single person that he knew. "There'll be time fer that later Kate," he said after a moment, "But ye ought te get off yer feet,"

"Jim, I've been off me feet fer God only knows how many hours," Kate reminded him, tugging on the ties of her life vest, "But I have te see if anyone we know got outta there. Petra maybe…or the Sages. I passed 'em in the hallway ye know, back on the…they might've made it te the boats."

"All right," Jim said, hearing the note of desperation in her voice and understanding that this was something she needed to do, "We'll have a look around. An' then yer gonna see the doctor, an' we're gonna find someplace te rest, aye?"

Kate wrinkled her nose, "I don't need te see the doctor,"

Jim raised his eyes heavenward and counted backwards from five, "Kate, just let him look at ye so I know ev'rythin's fine with you? Fer my sanity, please?"

She looked at him for a second before sighing heavily and rubbing the back of one hand across her eyes, "All right. Yer right; I'll go" she said, placing her hands on either side of his face, "I'm bein' difficult fer no reason. I'm sorry."

"Ye don't have te apologise," Jim said, and brushed her hair back from her forehead, "I know yer not tryin' te vex me on purpose. This time," he added, in an attempt to bolster her spirits.

He got a tiny, tiny ghost of a smile for his efforts, but she still looked immeasurably sad. Jim sighed, "Well…let's go see who we can find, aye?" Kate nodded and, slipping her hand into his, allowed him to lead her away from the gangway.

A pile of life vests was forming against a wall near the entrance to the _Carpathia_'s boat deck. Jim and Kate stopped here first so that Kate could rid herself of the cumbersome accessory that had been an essential part of her attire for the past eight hours. She seemed oddly reluctant to part with the thing, as though somehow she was going to need it again. Jim watched Kate lift it over her head and fold in the ties, almost tenderly, if he wasn't much mistaken. She hesitated for a moment and then gently placed the vest on the pile with the others before returning to Jim's side.

Catching the quizzical look he was giving her, she explained, "It's the last thing that proves that _Titanic_ was there," she shrugged one shoulder, almost sheepish, "It feels funny lettin' it go,"

Jim nodded, seeing the truth behind this sentiment. He led her away from pile, noticing as he did that Kate glanced back over her shoulder once, as though checking to make sure that the vests were still there, that they weren't going to vanish the moment she turned away. Jim squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

Unsurprisingly, the first thing the _Carpathia_'s crew had done was separate the survivors into their respective classes. It didn't matter that they'd all just spent an ungodly number of hours mashed together on lifeboats smaller than a typical third class latrine; they still had to be reminded of their place. If Jim had had the energy, he would have been angry about it. As it was, he could only manage a sort of deep disappointment.

No one seemed to be enforcing these divisions yet, however, because a fair number of people, clearly first or second class by their clothing and hair, were still mingled in with the steerage folks who had been gathered on the lower well deck. Whether these higher class passengers were there to look for loved ones, or there simply because they had yet to return to the sort of thinking in which caste mattered at all, Jim couldn't tell. He liked to think that it was perhaps a bit of both.

Kate, meanwhile, didn't seem to have noticed the mixed crowd. She was too busy examining each face they passed by to pay any mind to how the person was dressed or if they were wearing diamond earbobs. She was frowning so deeply that a line had appeared between her eyebrows.

Jim looked now as well. There were, in fact, several faces that he recognised, but no one he could call by name. This, in and of itself, however, was not all that surprising; Jim had not been near as social as Kate and aside from some notable exceptions like Roger and Jerry, he had not befriended a great many people. He touched Kate's shoulder, "D'ye not see anyone ye know Katie?"

"I do…" Kate said slowly. Her voice sounded strained, like a wire pulled too tight. She pointed, "That's Margaret Devaney over there I think. An' Katie Gilnagh," she listed off a few other names that Jim didn't recognise, "Mrs. Goldsmith…Mrs. Dean an' the baby….but…Jim…this can't be right at all, how are there so few of 'em?"

"Kate," Jim said, feeling a dull ache start up just below his breastbone, "Ye know how hard it was te get up te the boat deck,"

"I _know_ that, but…" Kate shook her head, "Look Jim, see over there, that lady with her daughter? That's Selma Apslund, she an' her family used te sit at the table behind us come dinner time. She had five children, Jim, _five_, none of 'em older'n thirteen. Where're the rest of 'em?"

Jim opened his mouth, closed it, had no idea what to say. Kate was still talking, pacing back in forth in front of him like an agitated animal. She ticked off names of the missing on her fingers like some macabre roll call, "The Sages, where are they? An' the Goodwins…an'…an' Margaret Rice an' her boys? There's not a one of 'em here Jim! It was s'posed te be women an' children first, wasn't it? So where in Hell _are_ they?"

"Katie…" Jim began, lamely, taking her arm to try and stop her near-frantic movement. She shook him off, as though he had stung her, making a wordless sound of grief that was almost, but not quite a shriek. Jim watched her warily as she stopped pacing but continued rotating slowly on the spot as though searching one last time for one of those lost faces in the crowd. When she found none, when her terrible suspicions were confirmed, she seemed to wilt entirely, sinking to the deck like a woman triple her age.

Kneeling beside Kate in alarm, Jim touched her cheek gently, afraid to speak. Kate looked at him, her face grey, "I didn't expect…I knew Petra an' Mathilde wouldn't be here. Jerry or Nora neither – they got left at the staircase. I knew that really, deep down. But I didn't think…not fer a second did I think, it'd be this many."

"I'm sorry," Jim said, taking both of her hands in his, "Ye don't know how sorry,"

"Don't be sorry fer me Jim," Kate said, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his, "I got you. Be sorry fer them." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, going very still for a minute or two, "Maybe I ought te go see the doctor now,"

Jim nodded, knowing that she was not suggesting this because she felt like something was wrong. Her sudden desire to see the doctor came out of sheer need to be anywhere but there on the deck with the ghosts of who knew how many lost children tugging at her skirts. He stood up, and pulled Kate to her feet, putting an arm around her waist when she wobbled a little, "Aye. Let's find him fer ye,"

Physicians, one per class, had been set up in each of the _Carpathia_'s dining rooms. The third class saloon was reasonably easy to find, nothing compared to the maze that had been the _Titanic_'s steerage decks. When Jim and Kate arrived at the room, a harried-looking nurse bustled over to see what they needed. She was business-like and clearly overwhelmed, but not unkind. Jim had to give her credit for the smile she attempted when she spotted them; used to dealing with a few bouts of sea-sickness and maybe a minor injury here or there, the sudden onslaught of people suffering exposure and exhaustion must have been mind-numbing.

"Hello dears. What do you need?" the nurse asked, poised to jot their names down on her list.

"Erm…This is my…that is, we're…she's…" Jim paused suddenly unsure of how to define their relationship. He felt his neck grow warm, "This is Kate," he finished.

Kate gave him a look that was both quizzical and vaguely amused. She cleared her throat, "I'm expectin'. Only three months in," She said simply, saving Jim from further embarrassment, "Want te make sure nothin's wrong."

"Oh!" The nurse exclaimed, her frazzled expression replaced by an almost comical cross between sympathy and delight, "Well then, the doctor ought to see you right off, oughtn't he? Come along lovey," She put a hand on the small of Kate's back and steered her forward, "Your husband can wait for you right here,"

The term 'husband' gave Jim more than a moment's pause. He knew his mouth was hanging open. Kate cast him a small, bemused glance over her shoulder as she was hustled away. The moment she was whisked behind the curtains that the doctor had set up for privacy, Jim shook his head feeling nonplussed, and perched on the edge of one of the benches that lined the tables. He rolled the idea of being Kate's husband around in his head a few times. All things considered, there hadn't been a lot of time to think over the fact that he and Kate were, technically, engaged. Going to be married. And significantly sooner than was strictly typical. The notion was new and perhaps a little disconcerting, but despite that Jim found he was rather pleased with the thought. It was crazy, maybe, and certainly illogical, but it felt right. And that, Jim was rapidly coming to believe, was probably all that mattered.

Kate was not long with the doctor. Jim never found out exactly what they discussed, but when Kate emerged from behind the curtains she looked relieved, despite her protests that she had not wanted or needed to be checked up on. Jim stood up as she hurried back to his side and looked her up and down anxiously, "Ye all right then?" He asked.

"If by 'all right' ye mean 'still pregnant', then yes," Kate said, almost-but-not-quite managing a smile – it came off more like a grimace, but Jim appreciated the effort. She rubbed an open palm over her lower abdomen and grew thoughtful, "Wonders never cease,"

Jim flicked his gaze down to Kate's hand on her stomach, then looked away again feeling as though the world had just slanted slightly to one side. It was almost too much for his poor weary brain to take in; that he was standing in the middle of a dining room-turned-hospital talking to his soon-to-be wife of less than one day about the well-being of her unborn child. A child that wasn't Jim's but, really, in some sideways, round-about, twist of fate way, felt like his despite all that. And somehow, incredibly, that felt right to him too. Wonders never cease indeed.

Taking her free hand in his, Jim said, "Well that's good then. I'm glad."

Kate looked up at him with a curious expression on her face, "Ye are? Really ye are?"

"'Course," Jim said tilting his head to one side, confused by the apparent doubt in her voice, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Instead of answering properly Kate just shook her head, and kissed him softly on the mouth, "C'mon boy-o, let's get out o' here,"

Because there was nowhere else to go – the Carpathia's passengers and crew were scrambling to find space for their unexpected guests – Jim and Kate wandered back up to the well deck. With nothing to keep her occupied, be it fretting over the baby or searching for people from the _Titanic_, Kate was having a hard time fighting her exhaustion. Jim could tell by the way she seemed unable to pick up her feet properly; she kept stumbling over imaginary irregularities in the floor boards and several times Jim had to catch her by the arms to keep her from falling.

"God A'mighty Kate," Jim said as she tripped again, teetering sideways into the railing before Jim hauled her upright, "D'ye want me te carry ye or somethin'?"

Kate glared at him half-heartedly, "Not if ye fancy keepin' all yer own teeth," she snapped. Jim, unaffected by either the threat or her tone of voice, narrowed his eyes at her. Kate sighed, "I just need te find somewhere te sit down,"

Jim made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat, "Haven't I been tellin' ye that fer the past hour?"

"Aye ye have," Kate said, glowering at the deck in front of her and making a pointed effort to lift her feet, "An' now I'm agreein' with ye."

"Jesus," Jim said under his breath. Louder he asked, "Is this what bein' married te you's gonna be like?"

"Oh no," Kate replied, her face deadpan, "It's gonna much worse,"

They exited from the promenade out onto the Well deck and paused for a moment to find an empty seat. It appeared as though a great number of the survivors who had deposited themselves there had not moved since the last time Jim and Kate had been on deck. People were flopped on deck chairs and crates and anything else they could sit on looking like limp, wrung out rags. Jim doubted that many of them even had the energy to lift their heads.

There weren't a lot of proper seats left, so Kate headed instead for an open patch of deck space where she could lean against the railings that prevented passengers from wondering into the crew-only area at the very bow of the ship. She sat down, wrapping her skirts around her legs and tucking her knees in close to her body. Jim lowered himself to the floor beside her.

"Kate I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," Jim said after a moment of examining her face from the corner of his eye. He had thought that Kate was starting to return to her usual high spirits, but he'd been wrong; she looked just as wretched as ever. She wasn't being contrary on purpose and it wasn't fair to tweak her about it.

"The comment 'bout married life with me?" Kate said, slanting a knowing look at him from the sides of her vision, "Sure ye meant it," when Jim tried to protest she silenced him by putting a finger to his lips, "An' I deserved it. I'm stubborn, an' temperamental an' I can't hold me tongue te save me own life. Don't think I don't know it,"

Jim frowned at her, "All right. Fair point," he conceded, "But I still shouldn't o' said it, 'cause I don't really mind. I like ye as ye are."

Kate favoured him with a tiny crooked smile, "Don't think I don't know _that_ as well," she said, "Even if I do think yer crazy fer it."

For a while they said nothing, just watched the people who passed by on the decks and listened to the sounds of the ocean. Jim tried to estimate how long it would be until they reached New York. The _Titanic_ had been set to make port by tomorrow morning, but Jim highly doubted that the little _Carpathia_ could match the enormous liner's speed. He guessed two more days, maybe even three or four. Jim wondered how on earth the small ship was going to handle the sudden increase in her passenger list.

"I don't feel any better," Kate said suddenly, startling Jim out of his musings.

He shifted to look at her properly. Kate had folded her arms across the tops of her knees and had her chin resting on her crossed wrists. She was watching the woman she'd pointed out earlier – Selma Apslund, who had lost half her family – trying to get her little daughter to drink something warm. "Katie?"

"I thought, once we got outta the lifeboats an' all, that I'd feel better," Kate explained, without lifting her head, "But I don't."

Jim sighed and pushed her hair, which had tumbled in front of her face, back over her shoulder. "I could tell ye that yer just tired an' that after a good sleep ye'll be right as rain again. But that'd be a lie an' ye don't deserve that," he said.

Kate turned her head to one side so she could see him and gazed at him with eyes that had aged ten years in the space of a day, "It hurts," she said, pressing the heel of one hand to a spot in the centre of her chest, "Right here. An actual pain, like someone kicked me or somethin',"

"Aye," Jim agreed, touching the same place on his own chest "Like a bruise. I know,"

"I hate it," Kate said with surprising venom. She lifted her head from her arms and raked the fingers of both hands through her curls before leaning back against the railings. She closed her eyes, "This wasn't s'posed te happen. How did everythin' go so terrible wrong?"

Jim understood something then, something that had escaped him until just that moment. Kate didn't take trouble lying down, she didn't know how. When things went wrong she fought. She fought and clawed and struggled until she fixed whatever was broken, until she made things right again. Unlike Jim, who had lived his whole life adjusting and bending and changing himself to fit with whatever got thrown his way, Kate met adversity head on and beat it into submission until her world was back where she wanted it to be.

But this…she couldn't fix this. No amount of fighting could change what had happened, and pure stubborn wilfulness could not raise the _Titanic_ from the ocean floor, or bring back the people they had lost. The life Kate had envisioned when she stepped onboard the Ship of Dreams had shattered into a million pieces, and she had no idea how to put it back together. Jim felt her helplessness and frustration like it was his own, and knowing that she felt that way hurt more than anything else so far.

Jim said, "Sometimes…things go wrong Katie. Sometimes there's nothin' ye can do about it,"

Kate opened her eyes and turned towards him. Jim could see unshed tears clinging to her lashes, "It makes no sense," she said, gesturing at the stricken passengers scattered around the deck in front of them, "none o' this. I don't know…I don't know how te make it make sense,"

"Neither do I. Maybe we're not s'posed te know how," Jim said, "But it'll get better. Thing's like this don't heal up fast, but it'll get better, I promise ye it will."

"How can ye know that?" Kate asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Jim shrugged, "Because it's you," off of her puzzled look he explained, "This is the worst it's ever been, I know. But yer a fighter, yer strong. An' ye won't give up."

Kate shook her head, and made a small dejected sound that was almost a whimper, "I don't feel strong," she whispered.

"No. I know ye don't," Jim said, taking both of her hands in his, "But that's why ye've got me te remind ye that ye are,"

Kate looked at him for a long time, long enough that Jim started to wonder if he'd said something wrong. Then, she smiled, a real, honest, unforced smile, the first he'd seen in a very long while. It was like watching the sun rise for a second time. "Aye, I do have you," Kate said, "An' I s'pose that's no small thing, is it?" she lifted his hands to her lips and kissed the tops of his knuckles, "Thank ye Jim Farrell. Fer bein' you."

Jim smiled and kissed her lightly between the eyebrows. Kate, still watery-eyed but looking comforted for now, ducked under Jim's arm and curled herself tightly against his side, her head on his shoulder. Jim held her tightly, absently stroking her hair. He listened to her breathe for a moment, taking comfort in the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. It was the closest thing to peace he'd felt in hours.

A breeze blew across the decks, making Jim shudder; he had left his blanket in the dining saloon when they'd gone to find the doctor. Kate still had hers, but it had slipped from her shoulders and pooled in her lap, "Ye should pull yer blanket up Kate. It's a bit chilly still," No answer, not even an inch of movement. Jim frowned, "Katie?" he repeated, twisting to look at her face.

What he saw surprised a small laugh out of him. Somehow, despite everything, Kate had fallen sleep. Jim touched her cheek to make sure, but she didn't even twitch. Her arms were wrapped securely around her waist, in that familiar protective posture that made Jim want to take her in his arms and keep her safe from everything in the world. Her expression, for this short time at least, was peaceful. He hoped that her dreams would not be the nightmares that she'd feared. He hoped that she might have this brief period of respite from the horrors that haunted her while she was awake.

Jim shifted slightly and tucked the blanket back around Kate's shoulders, careful not to disturb her sleep. "That's my girl," Jim said kissing her forehead and gazing down at her with a fondness that teetered precariously on the edge of love, "That's my good girl,"

The next few days were not going to be easy for either of them, Jim knew that. But, for the first time in his life, Jim felt uncommonly blessed, because he was here, alive, with his future in the shape of a ridiculous, temperamental red-head curled securely at his side. That was what mattered. All the rest could be put on hold until Kate woke up. He would be here waiting when she did.


	34. In Your Arms I'll Keep

**A/N:** Holy effing eff, I am so sorry about how long this took to post. There were several mitigating circumstances, including, but not limited to a roughly two week period in which I was pretty well banned from the computer due to an old shoulder injury, which was REALLY FRUSTRATING. But it's better now, and, after much rewriting and revising and heavy editing, this chapter is now here for your reading enjoyment. AT LONG LAST. If it makes you feel any better, this is the longest chapter in the entire story, weighing in at twelve pages where my previous longest chapter boasted a meagre nine. I know, way to get verbose at the end there.

And yes, if you've been paying attention, this is the second-to-last chapter. One more after this and that's all folks. I am premptively bereft. Regarding this chapter though, I feel I should mention that the thing that happens to Jim (cryptiiiiic) actually did happen to a number of individuals. My feelings about this are torn somewhere between Jim's reaction and Kate's. I will, however state this: percentage-wise, more first class men survived the _Titanic_ than third class children. Contemplate, discuss.

Lastly! To **Vee** and **HedgehogQuill** (do I call you HQ now? Lol), many many thanks and hugs and all of that, for you support, comments and everything else during the gap between this chapter and the previous one. You guys are amazing.

* * *

Kate had a crick in her neck, which was odd. The _Titanic_'s beds were so comfortable that Kate usually woke up feeling as though she'd been sleeping on air. But this time her discomfort was severe enough to jar her out of sleep. And why were there so many people in her room? For one blissful moment, Kate, peering groggily through her eyelashes, had no idea where she was. And then it came back, all in a horrible rush that almost knocked the wind out of her.

Not _Titanic_, she thought, squeezing her eyes closed again; _Carpathia_. No one would ever wake up on the _Titanic_ again. Kate made a small noise in the back of her throat, something between a groan and a whimper and wished fervently to return to that perfect moment of oblivion between sleep and wakefulness; the moment that ever so briefly relieved her of the need to remember anything. But no, there was nothing for it; she was awake now and had to face the day whether she wanted to or not.

Sighing heavily, Kate pushed herself into a sitting position, untangling her limbs from the folds of her wool blanket. She was in the _Carpathia_'s third class general room, on a spare mattress that had been dragged from a supply closet somewhere and tossed on the floor against the far wall. The small liner's crew had done their absolute best to find accommodations for their unexpected guests, and to their credit, no one was sleeping on the floor boards. But a healthy portion of the _Titanic_'s pitiful steerage survivors had ended up gathered in the public rooms, sleeping on unused mattresses and cots instead of in a proper cabin. Kate didn't mind. Being a woman she could almost certainly have found a bunk in some kind passenger's room, but that would have meant being separated from Jim. And Kate wasn't about to let that happen, not yet.

Jim had tried to insist that they get separate mattresses, but Kate wouldn't hear of it. It didn't matter to her one bit that they were not married yet; after nearly twenty-four hours at his side, propriety could go straight to Hell. As far as Kate was concerned, if the space between them was such that she could no longer feel the warmth of Jim's body near hers, then he was too far away. Jim was obviously starting to learn when it was pointless to argue with her, because he'd conceded with little fuss.

Kate looked down at Jim and smiled slightly. As a compromise, Kate had allowed him to have a separate blanket from hers, so that, while they might be technically sharing a bed, there was still some barrier between them. As such, her shifting had not disturbed him; he was still deeply asleep, sprawled on his back with one arm slung across his chest. Kate had never seen Jim sleep before; she thought he looked very young and somehow vulnerable. It made her heart twinge. She watched him for a minute, the rise and fall of each breath he took, the faint frown that pulled at the corners of his mouth as though something in his dreams was troubling him. Kate wanted to reach out and smooth the downturned lines away. It still seemed remarkable to Kate that he was there with her, alive and whole. Thinking about what could have been filled her with such stone-cold dread that she shuddered.

Shifting a little closer to Jim on the mattress, Kate leaned over and inspected his face for any signs of waking. She didn't expect to see any; yesterday, while she had napped up on deck, Jim had stayed awake the entire time, watching over her. He hadn't told Kate that this was true, but she knew it just the same. She had read it in his eyes when he'd finally woken her because it had started to rain. And so she knew that he must have been nearly half-conscious by the time they'd finally found a place to settle for the night. She would let him sleep as long as he wanted.

Kate stood up and stretched, feeling the bones in her spine pop. Wincing, she limped to her small pile of clothes, her body still stiff from the hours spent cramped in the life boat and the long sleep on the hard mattress. Along with her skirt and blouse Kate's meagre belongings now included a shift, petticoat and bloomers donated by some unknown woman on the _Carpathia_'s roster. Because Kate had thrown her day clothes over her nightgown in her haste to get above decks, she had had no proper undergarments besides her stockings and their fastenings, nor was she the only woman from the _Titanic_ to be faced with such a dilemma.

The fact that the ladies aboard the rescue ship had been willing to, quite literally, give the survivors the clothes from their backs, spoke volumes for their nature. The kindness of the gesture brought a small bit of light into the dismal place Kate's world had suddenly become; it pushed back the shadows a bit. Kate wished she knew who had been the previous owner of her current ensemble – she would have dearly liked to thank the faceless stranger who had done such a selfless thing.

Gathering her clothes into her arms, Kate decided to visit the latrines before the inevitable lines got ridiculous. Using her coat like a dressing gown, Kate buttoned herself up so she wouldn't cause a scandal wandering around the Carpathia in just her pyjamas, and then crouched down by Jim's head.

"I'll be right back boy-o," she whispered, combing Jim's hair back from his forehead with her fingers. He shifted slightly, but didn't wake, "Don't ye go anywhere,"

Kate beat the crowd at the washrooms by about five minutes. She had to wait only briefly, but by the time she had emerged, washed and dressed for the day, the line stretched a solid ten feet down the corridor and was steadily growing. Kate shook her head, wondering how long tempers would hold as passengers were continually faced with the problems that arose on a ship that was full past capacity. There were lines everywhere: for meals, for the doctor; the _Carpathia_ had simply not been prepared to take on an extra seven-hundred people. All things considered though, Kate thought, fingering the edge of her new petticoat, their rescuers were doing rather well. Remembering the lifeboat, the endless dark, the bitterly cold air, Kate knew with absolute certainty that she would not be one to complain about a touch of overcrowding.

Upon her return to the general room, Kate saw that most people had now woken up and were wandering through the maze of mattresses and cots trying to look as though they had a purpose. More than anything that was why Kate hoped the they would make good time to New York - not because of crowding or uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, but because so long as they were all trapped here on this boat, there was nothing at all for anyone to do but eat, sleep, and think. A distraction of any form would have been welcome, and currently distractions were woefully hard to come by.

Kate picked her way through the jungle of makeshift beds back to where she'd left Jim. He too was awake, but clearly had not been for long; he still looked decidedly bleary-eyed. Sitting on the edge of their shared mattress, Jim saw Kate coming and gave her a groggy smile. Kate felt a sudden rush of affection for him so powerful that she stopped momentarily in her tracks, before gathering herself again and finishing the trip.

Jim looked up at her, "What's with you? Ye've got a funny look on yer face."

"Mornin' te you too," Kate said, prodding him lightly with the toe of her boot. She wondered what look, exactly, she had on her face. Kate highly suspected that she'd come over all dewy eyed and smiling like an idiot. "Ye plannin' on greetin' me like that ev'ry day?"

"Sorry," Jim said with a grimace.

Kate smiled and rumpled his already sleep-mussed hair, "Ah never mind. Truth be told I've gotten awful fond of yer constant unflatterin' observations 'bout my ev'ry little thing," She tucked her nightgown under her pillow and sat down beside him, "What that says 'bout me, I don't rightly know, but it ought te make _yer_ life a bit easier, aye?"

"Anythin' that helps," Jim agreed. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and tucked her hair behind her ears. He did that a lot, Kate noticed; the gesture was already becoming comfortably familiar. "Ye sleep all right then?"

"Not terrible badly," Kate said with a small shrug, "I thought for certain I'd have nightmares, but I didn't dream at all. It was sort o' peaceful, not havin' te think of anythin' fer a while," she sighed, "An' then I woke up." Jim covered one of her hands with his own and she smiled in spite of herself, "But havin' you here with me makes that part worth it,"

Jim kissed her again, on the mouth this time, light and sweet and fast though Kate would have gladly accepted more. For a moment he traced the line of her jaw with the callused edge of his thumb, "S'pose we go get some breakfast then?"

Distracted by the touch, Kate had to clear her throat several times before answering, "Aye, s'pose we do." Jim stood up, and helped her to her feet. They left the general room with their hands securely linked.

Breakfast was a miserable affair. Kate and Jim arrived too late to avoid the worst of the line and were forced to wait for nearly a half hour to get their meal: a single bowl of porridge mixed with dry fruit; hearty, yes, but fairly tasteless and largely unsatisfying. Kate couldn't help but wonder whether or not there was enough food onboard to support everyone for much longer. She hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

The dining hall, like just about everywhere else, was packed tightly with people. Kate and Jim squeezed side by side onto a bench near the door. Though Kate knew that several of her acquaintances were among the survivors, she could spot no one she recognised. It didn't matter; nobody seemed much in the mood for talking, focused instead on eating their food as quickly as possible and escaping the stiflingly cramped room. Kate couldn't say that she blamed them in the least.

Pushing the gluey mass of her porridge around with her spoon, Kate found that she had very little appetite. It wasn't fair to keep comparing, but she couldn't help but think that, had they been on the _Titanic_, they'd have been stuffing themselves with fresh fruit and warm bread, and there would have been plenty of room to stretch out in. It was almost funny how quickly Kate had gotten used to that sort of living. If five days already had Kate turning up her nose at porridge; it was really no wonder that, after a lifetime, rich people were as spoiled and snobbish as they were.

Jim seemed to be having no issues what so ever with the meagre fare. In fact, he was already nearly done with his meal, and was now eyeing Kate's still-full bowl with something like concern. "Ye ought te eat more'n that Kate," he said, tapping the edge of her bowl with his spoon.

Kate looked down at her barely touched breakfast and made a half-hearted attempt to force some more into her mouth. She realised, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was not the food that was troubling her, it was the fact that seated across from her was a pair of middle-aged Italian women and not the two faces she wanted most to see, the two faces she had started to take for granted would always be there and now were not. "I'm not really hungry," Kate said finally, dropping her spoon into the bowl.

Jim frowned, "Don't be daft. Ye'll be starvin' by lunch,"

"Then at lunch I'll eat somethin', won't I?" Kate shot back. Jim gave her an exasperated look that told Kate that she was being unreasonably snippy with him again. She sighed, "Can we get out o' here?"

After a moment Jim nodded, "All right, if that's what ye want,"

Outside of the dining hall, Kate had to pause briefly to collect herself. Jim eyed her warily, a mixture of concern and confusion stamped across his face. Kate gave him a tight-lipped smile, "I keep thinkin' 'bout what we'd be doin' if we were still on the _Titanic_. I know I ought te stop, but I can't help it; me mind does it without me givin' it leave te," she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, "An' I miss Mullins an' Murphy."

"Aye. I know ye do," Jim said, taking her hand. He looked at her sadly, then dropped a light kiss onto the top of her head, "What d'ye say we go up on deck an' get some air?"

Kate nodded and looped his arm around her shoulders, "That's a good idea."

She was still tucked securely against Jim's side when they arrived at the stairs that led above deck. A pair of women was engaged in earnest conversation at the entrance to the stairwell, and did not see them coming. Kate's didn't recognise the duo; she could not even be entirely sure that they were former members of _Titanic_'s steerage. Class divisions were not being strictly enforced except for meals and sleeping arrangements, and going by the way the women carried themselves and the fact that their voices betrayed no trace of foreign accent, Kate thought that they could easily have been second or even first class. Still, their red-rimmed eyes and too-pale faces marked them as survivors, and that, to Kate's eyes, made them equal.

Still, equal or not, they were also blocking the exit. Kate ducked out from under Jim's arm, but kept firm hold of his hand as she approached, "'Scuse me?" She said politely, startling both women out of their huddled conversation, "D'ye mind if we just squeeze past ye?"

Apparently Kate's views on survivor equality were shared by the women, because neither appeared the slightest bit affronted at being addressed so casually by an unknown Irish waif several years younger than either of them. The slightly taller of the two even looked mildly abashed at the realisation that they were forming a blockade in front of the stairs, "Oh goodness, I am sorry dear. I didn't even notice where we'd stopped. By all means go right…"

Kate frowned as the woman trailed off. The sheepish smile had slipped sideways from the lady's face, leaving in its place an oddly pinched and twisted look, as though she had suddenly swallowed something bitter. Glancing at the woman's companion, Kate saw an almost identical expression mirrored there. Wondering if she'd inadvertently done something shocking, Kate glanced over her shoulder down the hallway as though looking for some clue as to the sudden shift in mood.

It was then that she realised that neither woman was looking at her; their focus had moved entirely to Jim, who was a pace or two behind and still holding Kate's hand. Utterly perplexed, Kate gave Jim a questioning look. However, he was paying no attention to Kate, looking instead at the two strangers with an expression that Kate had never seen before. The emotion was so out of place on Jim's face that it took her several heartbeats to place it, and when she did, Kate became even more confused than she already was. Though she had no explanation for it, Kate was quite certain that the look was nothing less than pure, unmasked shame.

Jim let go of Kate's hand, and removed his cap, wringing it in both hands. He looked as though he was trying to come up with something to say. The first women, the one who had spoken, was still stone-faced, and seemed to have gone several degrees paler than she previously had been. She had both hands clasped before her and was twisting furiously at her left ring finger. Kate's saw the glint of a wedding band as she moved.

The woman's companion seemed to finally regain her senses, and took control of the situation. She took her friend by the hand and gave her a gentle tug, "Come Eleanor," she said, in a voice so cold that Kate felt its chill as surely as if she had just been dropped back into the lifeboat. Without another word, the two women pushed past Kate and Jim and disappeared down the corridor, leaving nothing but frosty silence in their wake.

Kate watched them go and then looked up at Jim, "What, in the name o' God, was that all about?"

Jim didn't answer right away. He made a show of unfolding his rumpled hat and jamming it back on his head before saying, "It's nothin'. Let's go," without once meeting her eyes.

"Oh no ye don't," Kate said, hurrying to catch him as he headed past her up the stairs, "Don't you 'it's nothin'' _me_, Jim Farrell,"

"I beg yer pardon?" Jim said, casting a disbelieving look back over his shoulder, "Forgive me fer pointin' it out, but you've been usin' that line on me fer 'bout as long as I've known ye."

Kate snorted indignantly, "Aye, sure an' I have," she replied, "How else d'ye think I'd know it was such a perfect all-out lie?"

Jim stopped, turned around, and scowled at her. Kate gave him an imperious look and arched one eyebrow. For half an instant, Jim looked almost amused, then he regained his composure, "All right, fine then. It's not nothin'. But it doesn't much matter either, so pay it no mind,"

"If you think I'm buyin' that load o' horse shite Jim, then you've not gotten te know me quite as well as I'd hoped," Kate said, putting her hands on her hips and looking stern. Jim rolled his eyes at her. "What the hell happened back there?"

With a sigh, Jim dropped any pretence of being annoyed with her and shrugged, "Ye saw what happened," he said looking over her head to some imaginary point in the middle distance.

The return of his refusal to meet her gaze alerted Kate that something was really and truly wrong, "Sure, I saw it," she said, gentling her tone, "But I don't understand. One minute we're talkin' nice an' civil te the two ladies an' the next they're runnin' off like we was carryin' the plague."

"No, not _us_," Jim corrected her, "not you."

Kate shook her head, as bewildered as ever, "Now just what's that s'posed te mean?"

"_Me_, Kate," Jim said, finally making eye contact, "They acted that way because o' me."

This statement did very little to ease Kate's confusion. She stared at him trying to puzzle through his reasoning. Jim watched her patiently. Frowning so hard that her eyebrows had knit into an almost solid line, Kate replayed the encounter over in her head, trying to dredge up whatever detail she was missing that was the key to her understanding. And then she remembered: the wedding ring, the woman had been wearing a wedding ring. Kate looked sharply at Jim, her jaw dropping open, "Ye've got te be kiddin' me,"

Jim gave her a wry smile, "Figured it out have ye?"

"Yer sayin'…" Kate began slowly, trying to keep her voice even, "Yer sayin' that they acted that way because yer…because yer…"

"Because I'm a man, an' I survived?" Jim finished for her, "Aye, that's what I'm sayin',"

Kate, to her credit, managed to control her temper for almost a half minute, which was, to her mind, a half-minute more than should have rightly been required of her. Then she exploded. "Those stuck up, unfeelin', good fer nothin' half-wit, _hussies_," she near-shouted, drawing startled looks from several people nearby, "I ought te march back down there, find the pair o' them an' knock their great empty heads t'gether!"

She might have actually gone and done exactly that, had Jim – looking thoroughly alarmed – not grabbed her by the back of the coat and dragged her bodily away from the stairs. She was sputtering like a cat someone had thrown into water, and trying very hard to get free of him, but Jim did not relinquish his hold until he'd gotten her safely away to a secluded area near the railings, "Katie, calm down it's not worth gettin' so worked up over,"

Kate glared at him furiously. She was so angry that her face had gone white to the lips and her hands were shaking, "It's plenty worth it te me," she snapped.

Jim made a small noise of exasperation in the back of his throat, but chose not to comment on this assertion. Instead he said, "Have ye really not noticed 'til just now Kate?"

"Noticed what?" Kate demanded, "Yer tryin' te tell me this isn't the first time?"

"Been happenin' since yesterday," Jim confirmed, "First time was durin' the service, at noon, ye remember?"

Of course Kate remembered. As the _Carpathia_ had passed over the spot where the _Titanic_ had foundered all the survivors and their rescuers had gathering in the main saloon for a memorial and minute of silence. It had been a short event, and Kate had spent most of it standing near the back clinging to Jim's hand and fighting to hold back tears. She had noticed nothing but the mutual looks of misery on everyone's faces.

"I didn't see nothin'," Kate said, "No one even came near us,"

Jim nodded, "No…this was the first time I've come face te face with anyone who…but there were a few women yesterday glarin' daggers at the men. Heard one lady askin' this older bloke how 'twas he'd gotten on a boat when her husband hadn't."

Kate, who had just started to simmer down, immediately became furious again. She was torn between wanting to put her fist through something and wanting to burst into tears. "Just who in Hell d'they think they are?" Kate spat, settling for pounding the uppermost railing so hard that pain reverberated through her whole arm.

Wincing at the sound of the impact Jim said, "Jesus Kate, will ye be careful?" He grabbed her arm and inspected her the angry red mark now blooming over her wrist, "Yer gonna have a bruise the size o' Kilkenny ye wee idiot,"

"Don't change the subject," Kate snapped, pulling out of his grasp, "Those stupid biddies've got no right te be goin' around makin' people ashamed o' bein' alive. That's a mean, heartless thing te do te a body, an' if they had a shred o' decency in 'em they'd know te hold their damn tongues,"

"Kate, ye can't be that hard on 'em," Jim reprimanded her gently, "They're grievin' after all,"

"I'm grievin' too!" Kate responded, at a volume that made Jim leap back a few steps, "I lost people too. Two o' the best friends I ever had are gone forever, an' ye don't see _me_ paradin' 'round this boat like I'm _God_, passin' judgement on people,"

Jim rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, "Kate ye have te understand. It was women an' children…an' I lived an' their husbands and sons and brothers didn't. Ye can't be so cross at 'em fer wantin' te blame somebody,"

"Oh yes I can," Kate said through clenched teeth, "Fer damn sure I can. Ye said it yerself – it was women an' children. _Women and children_, Jim. But Mullins an' Murphy are still dead. And Nora. An' Petra an' Mathilde. How many women an' children from third class never even made it to the boats? And them sorry bints have the nerve te begrudge you yer life? I'm sorry Jim, but I'll be plenty cross with 'em thank ye very much."

"All right," Jim said, shaking his head in resignation. He wandered over to the railings and leaned against them, looking out to sea, "Ye've got a point."

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. Something in his tone kept her from believing that he actually agreed with her. Jim, sensing her gaze, glanced at her from his peripheral vision. There was a notable tightness around his mouth, and a droop to his shoulders that was not typical to him, and Kate knew that there was something more going on then just some hostility from a few uncaring women. Kate moved up beside him, "Jim, ye haven't actually been takin' it te heart have ye? Ye don't believe 'em?"

"'Course not," Jim said unconvincingly, "Not really."

It was impossible to take this statement as plain truth. Kate remembered the look on his face during the confrontation in the stairwell, the shame, the sorrow. She could see it in his eyes right then. It made her want to cry, "Ye can't, Jim, ye can't believe a word they say. You deserve te be here much as anybody."

Jim nodded, but didn't answer and Kate felt despair boil up from somewhere deep inside her, scalding like acid, burning her from the inside out. She grabbed Jim's arm and shook it, "Jim, ye wouldn't've even got on a boat if they hadn't needed someone te row. Ye'd've died with everyone else if not fer that. Yer not here because ye designed it that way, yer here 'cause o' pure blind luck. Ye know that. Ye have to know that."

"I'm here," Jim said, gently pulling out of her grasp, "Because Fred Barrett gave up his seat. Luck had nothin' te do with it,"

Kate swallowed, knowing this to be true. Both of them were standing here, alive, whole, because someone else had been willing to die in their place. But until just that moment she had thought that Jim had come to grips with this fact in a way that she had not. He was so level-head, so self-possessed, he had given no hint, not even the slightest inkling that he felt this kind of guilt. Kate made a small involuntary noise, a low keening sound of pure helplessness. "Barrett knew I needed ye," she said her voice wavering dangerously, "I _need_ ye Jim Farrell. Don't…please don't regret bein' alive. When I woke up this mornin' the only thing as made it bearable was the fact that you were there. Please don't regret bein' here with me, please don't,"

Jim looked at her, dismayed, "Kate," he said, "Kate, don't think that. O' course I don't regret bein' with you,"

"Then why would ye listen te them women?" Kate asked, taking his face in both hands, "Why would ye let 'em shame ye like that?" She stroked his cheek, pushed his hair beneath his cap, and looked for an answer that would never come. They were not saved, she realised; they were here on this ship and safe and warm but they were so far from saved that they may as well have been still adrift in the lifeboat. Something inside her cracked, splintered into needle-sharp pieces and she whispered; "Oh God Jim. What are we gonna do?"

Again he didn't reply, just looked down at her with such sad eyes that she had to press her face into his chest to block out the sight. She felt angry, she felt cheated; because they had survived for what? For this horrible half-life, held in limbo forever by the ghosts of people they loved and debts they could never hope to repay? They couldn't continue like this, weighted down by grief and guilt and helpless despair. This couldn't be the rest of their lives.

Kate pressed herself as close to Jim as she could get, her hands gripping the front of his shirt like a lifeline, her ear resting alongside his heart. She listened to his heartbeat. She thought of Barrett who had realised that, by saving Jim he was saving her as well. She thought of Mullins and Murphy who had wanted so badly to reach the New World, but had still been willing to give up those dreams for the sake of hers. And she made a decision.

"Yesterday ye told me that things'd get better," Kate said. She lifted her head from Jim's chest and looked up into his face, "Did ye believe that? Or were ye just sayin' so fer my sake?"

Jim hesitated, "I meant it…when I said it."

Kate nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line, "Aye. Well here's what I think – I think the way we're goin' right now there's not a hope in Hell of things ever bein' all right again,"

Jim stared at her as if she'd grown an extra set of limbs. "Kate, don't say that. If _yer _talkin' that way then the rest of us are plain done fer,"

Though the tone of his voice was teasing, there was an underlying thread of absolute seriousness. Kate had been relying on Jim's strength so heavily for the past twenty-four hours, that it had never occurred to her how much he was likewise relying on hers. She felt ashamed of her own self-absorption.

"Look at the pair of us," She said, "standin' here like lost souls. We keep wallowin' around in our own misery like this, things're gonna stay just as awful as they are."

"All right," Jim said, his expression grave, "True enough." He looked at Kate hard, for once seeking her face for the reassurance that was usually his to give, "So what d'we do then?"

The answer to this question was deceptively obvious. Kate had known it her entire life, had lived by this philosophy, but only just now come to really understand it. It was a truth that she'd spoken herself, but never really listened to before. She was listening now. "Jim, nothin's ever gettin' better if we don't choose te make it so," she said, "We gotta decide te change things."

Jim gave a small, humourless laugh and lightly brushed his knuckles over her jaw, "Ye say like that's so simple," he said. She could hear the fondness in his voice even through the sarcasm.

Kate gave him a stern look, "An' where in there did I say 'twas 'simple'?" she demanded, one corner of her mouth quirking into a sardonic half-smirk. "It's not. Not hardly, an' don't think I'm such a fool as not te know that. But Jim... people died fer us. Mullins an' Murphy an' Barrett, they died fer _us_. How badly are we failin' 'em if we don't even try?"

"That's a mighty tall order Kate McGowan," Jim said, "Livin' yer life with the aim o' makin' sense outta that kind o' sacrifice,"

"Well," Kate replied, trying and failing to suppress a smile, "We'll just have te live fer us then, an' that'll be enough,"

Jim looked puzzled at her apparent enjoyment of this statement. He raised one eyebrow, "That makes a certain amount o' sense," he said slowly, clearly wondering what joke he was missing out on.

Kate grinned fully now, "It ought te," she said, "Seein' as how I heard it first from you," Jim stared at her, in equal parts surprised and baffled, and Kate felt her smug grin soften. She took his hand, "On the lifeboat. That's what you told me. I'm not sure I believed ye then, but I think I do now,"

"I…" Jim shook his head, nonplussed, "I forgot completely,"

"Aye, I know," Kate said, raising his hand to her lips and kissing his callused palm, "That's gonna keep happenin', I think; one of us forgettin' the good advice we gave the other'n. But so long as one of us remembers we'll keep gettin' through, we'll be all right," she looked up at him, "D'ye believe me?"

"Katie, I'd be a right daft idiot not te," Jim replied. He ran his fingers through her hair, tangling them in her curls, "Sometimes I think there's nothin' ye can't make true if ye set yer stubborn head to it,"

Katie shook her head, all serious despite the teasing, "Don't say that," she pleaded, "Ye make me out te be all kinds o' strong, but I'm not. I try te be, but I'm not. I'm scared an' I'm sad an' I can't do this without you."

Jim took her face in his hands and tilted it up to his, "An' ye won't have te," he promised, "I'm not goin' anywhere." He hesitated, and then added, "So long as ye swear te me the same thing,"

Though her first impulse was to sob, Kate smiled instead. She laid her forehead against his, "Yer stuck with me good an' proper Jim Farrell, no doubt about that,"

In response to this he kissed her, properly, for the first time since they'd been on board the _Titanic_. No chaste peck on the cheek or forehead, to comfort or to show fondness; he kissed her the way a man kisses the woman he knows he will spend the rest of his life with – long, and deep and full of promise. And Kate, her heart thundering in her ears, reminding her that she was alive, that _they_ were alive, knew in that moment, beyond all doubt, _knew_ that they were going to be fine.

When they broke apart, breathless and flushed, no words were exchanged. Jim smiled at Kate, and she beamed up at him, and they remained like that, securely in each others arms for a long time, two broken people who could now begin to rebuild themselves, so much stronger, together.

Kate closed her eyes and sent one thought away from herself, out over the vast, empty sea and sky, to the place where her world ended and another began, a place where she thought three particular souls might be watching, and smiling. _Thank you_, she thought_, thank you, thank you, thank you_.


	35. Fortune's Winds

**A/N:** Wow, so...this is it. The end. it's actually kind of hard to believe it. I'm relieved on one level, because it means that I no longer have to worry about whether or not I'm going to be able to finish this beast, but on another level, I'm actually kind of sad. I wrote the first material for what would eventually be this story a year ago February, the first chapter went live last April...I mean seriously, this fic represents the work of over one year of my life. Which is sort of astounding to me. Mostly because, holy crap, I'm slow, lol. But also - this is officially my largest complete written work, including my various pieces of original fiction. The word document is 205 pages long. My previous longest story is 35. Holy crappity. Anyhoo, I can't really say anything about this chapter, but there are some important things to be said, so I give you this: A Dedication in Three Parts.

First, to my readers. To anyone to ever decided to give this story a chance, to everyone who put it on alerts, or left me a review, thank you thank you. Your support, even if it was silent, means a lot. Especially though, to three special ladies: **Cookies** - for coming into this fic somewhere around chapter 13 and embracing it totally, for your wonderful supportive comments and all-around heart-felt praise and encouragement, **Vee** - For reading this despite your tendency to stay away from fandoms you aren't familiar with, for reviewing every single chapter without fail, and not only that, but for giving me some of the the most helpful, insightful, ego-boosting comments that I have ever, ever had on a piece of writing, for letting me geek about my fav. Irish kids, and for being an awesome spell-check, and for always knowing what I was trying to accomplish, and lastly for my favourite **Hedgehog** for being, no joke, one of the key reasons that I ever got up the nerve to post this story, for being here quite literally from the moment I posted the first chapter right up until now, never failing to review and offer support. I couldn't have done it without you.

Second, to Peter Stone and Maury Yeston who wrote this beautiful musical in the first place, and the actors who brought it to life in the OBC - Jennifer Piech, Clarke Thorell, Erin Hill, Theresa McCarthy and Brian d'Arcy James (Kate, Jim, Mullins, Murphy and Barrett respectively). The characters you see in this fic would not exist if it hadn't been for these mind blowing performances. If I could ever meet any of them, I could die happy. For serious.

And last - to the 1517 people who lost their lives on the _RMS Titanic_, and the 711 survivors who had to live with that burden. I remember. This story is my small attmept to make sure that a few others remember as well.

* * *

Bitter April rain pounded the decks of the _Carpathia_ as the ship approached the New York harbour, soaking any crewman or passenger who dared to venture out into the elements. Among them, Kate, not quite wet through to the skin but getting there. She stood against the rails of the forward Well Deck, peering through the deluge to try to catch her first glimpse of the place that would soon be her home.

"Kate, what in the name o' God are ye doin'?"

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Kate's mouth, but she didn't turn around, "I'm lookin' fer the Statue o' Liberty,"

Jim came up beside her and grasped her above the elbow, "Aye, an' yer gettin' soaked," he chastised her, attempting to steer her back into the shelter of the stairwell, "Yer gonna be landin' in New York with a ragin' case o' pneumonia,"

Kate made a face, but followed him out of the rain, "Ye find a crewman then? Someone as knows what's gonna happen when we get there?" She shook her head to dispel water from her curls, which were plastered in a sodden tangle to her face and neck.

"I did, aye," Jim said, blinking against the sudden spray of rain water, "Jesus Kate, that's cold,"

"Sorry."

He shot her a bemused look and continued, "Fella said we'd be pullin' in within the hour. They're unloadin' the rich folk first, o' course," Jim paused, his tone taking on a distinctly wry note, and Kate lightly tweaked his earlobe to prompt him to keep speaking. He twitched an eyebrow at her, but went on, "Third class'll be last te leave. It'll probably be good an' late by then."

"Ah well," Kate said with a sigh and a shake of her head, "It's not as though we've got anywhere te be, is it?"

"I s'pose not," Jim agreed.

For a few minutes they stood side by side without speaking, watching the rain fall. It was dark already, liable to be black as pitch by the time they actually pulled in to shore. In the distance a smudge of yellow light was all that indicated the approach of land. Kate stared at this refracted glow unblinkingly as though she was afraid it was nothing more then a trick of her vision, a mirage caused by the rain. It had been a week since she had last had a glimpse of anything but vast, endless ocean. It seemed like an eternity to her, a whole lifetime; so much had happened since Kate had watched the familiar shores of Ireland vanish into the horizon.

Folding her arms across her stomach, Kate said, "What d'we do now?"

Jim looked down at her, a frown creasing his features, "Right this minute?" He asked, being deliberately obtuse, "Or when we get there?"

"When we get there smart-boots," Kate replied, elbowing him gently in the ribs. She twiddled one of the buttons on her coat, "I never really had a plan ye know. I was gonna find a boardin' house, get a room fer m'self…but I s'pose that doesn't work so well now."

"That's what ye get fer goin' an' ropin' some poor sod into marryin' ye," Jim said, his tone utterly solemn. Only the slight crinkling around the corners of his eyes betrayed his teasing. Kate elbowed him again, harder this time. He winced, "I deserved that,"

Kate nodded, "Damn right ye did,"

All serious once again, Jim said, "I've got a friend there, made the crossin' two years ago. He'll get us settled, place te live an' all that,"

"And he knows yer…" Kate hesitated and cleared her throat delicately, "Still comin'?"

Jim gave her a tight-lipped smile, "Aye. I sent him a wire te tell him I was, Tuesday eve, when we telegraphed our families. He'll be ready fer us."

"Us," Kate repeated, scuffing her boot against the floor boards, "He knows 'bout me then?"

"Sure he does," Jim said. "Why, did ye think I'd want te keep ye secret?"

Kate shrugged. For the past four days she had been secure in her anonymity, knowing that there wasn't anyone nearby who would question her relationship with Jim. Now, faced with the prospect of starting a life together, she couldn't help but wonder how he would handle the curiosity and accusations that were sure to come flying at them from all directions. "It crossed me mind that ye maybe wouldn't know how te explain me te people,"

"Oh I've got a story all worked out," Jim replied, sounding unconcerned. Catching the suspicious look she was giving him, he smiled, "Sure, it's simple; I met this smart-mouthed, cheeky red-headed girl on the ship an' now we're gettin' married. Anythin' besides that's none o' their damn business."

It would forever be a mystery to Kate how, of every possible man whose life she could have stumbled into, she'd lucked into Jim. She shook her head, and rubbed the bridge of her nose, hoping that he hadn't noticed the way her eyes had just welled up. "Sweet talker," she grumbled fondly. Jim grinned at her, but Kate was distracted from further comment by a sudden commotion out on deck. Squinting out into the rain to see what was going on, Kate gasped, "Jim, oh Jim look!"

She had darted out into the downpour again before Jim could think to stop her. Kate could hear him cursing under his breath as he hurried after her. "Fer the love o' God Kate," he snapped, "Ye'd think ye _wanted_ te catch yer death or somethin'"

Kate ignored him, "_Look_," she repeated urgently, pointing at something just beyond the _Carpathia_'s bow, "There she is,"

And there she was; the Statue of Liberty. Obscured by rain and darkness it had taken longer for her to come into view, but now she towered before them in all her glory, the lady who would welcome them to their new home. Kate, staring up at statue, blinking rain water out of her eyes, felt suddenly very small.

"Isn't she grand?" Kate breathed, grasping Jim's arm. Several other passengers had braved the inclement weather to see the statue as the _Carpathia_ steamed past. This small crowd, all with faces upturned, pointed and talked to each other in reverent voices. It was the first signs of hope that Kate had seen among any of her fellow survivors, and the sight made her voice hitch in her throat, "I wish…" she began, but found herself unable to finish the thought.

Jim knew what she was trying to say anyway, "Aye," he agreed, putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close, so that her back was against his chest, "I know. I wish they were here te see it too." There was no need to define the 'they' to which he referred.

Kate closed her eyes and leaned back against him. The rain had tapered off from the downpour of earlier to a steady fine drizzle that clung her hair and eyelashes like an overlay of the finest lace. She should have been cold, but she was not, wearing the safety of Jim's embrace like the warmest shawl. Kate could not recall at any point in her life being overcome with such a profound combination of sadness and happiness. The warring emotions boiled, chaotic, through her body, making it hard to breathe, or to hold her own weight. _They would want me to be happy_, she told herself, _they would want me to be happy._

A small noise, almost a sigh, almost a sob, slipped unchecked from Kate's throat, and Jim looked at her sharply, tilting her face towards his so that she could see her better. "Katie," he said, dismay flickering across his face, "Yer cryin',"

How he could tell the difference between tears and the rain drops that streaked her cheeks, Kate didn't know. She wiped her face with the damp sleeve of her coat, "I s'pose I am," she said, "But not fer the reasons ye think,"

"No?" Jim asked.

"No," Kate shook her head, adamant. She chewed her lower lip for a moment, trying to find a way to explain. Her grief for Mullins and Murphy and Barrett was deep and still-painful, and though she would bear the scar of it always, the wound was not mortal, and slowly it would heal. Had, indeed, already begun to heal. And this, the hope that welled up inside her at the sight of the statue and the glow of the shoreline was the proof that Jim had been right, that things would get better. "I'm cryin' because we made it Jim. We're here,"

That was the gift they'd been given, and Kate's tears, for once, were not for the absence of her friends, but rather for the fact that they had wanted her to be happy, and somehow, when she looked beneath the layer upon layer of sorrow and regret and broken dreams, she _was_. Or at least, she would be, eventually. And that was enough for now.

Jim, for his part, seemed to grasp her full meaning, because he nodded and smiled, and stroked her cheek, "We're here."

Kate returned the smile, then moved away from Jim for a moment, looking contemplatively towards shore. Jim followed, coming up beside her but neither speaking, nor touching, just waiting for her to tell him what else was on her mind. Kate was silent for a long while, and when she finally spoke, what she said was, "Fred,"

Jim's features folded into an expression of pure bafflement, "Sorry?"

The corners of Kate's mouth twitched once, signalling her amusement at his confusion, but otherwise she remained perfectly serious. She turned to face Jim, one hand moving to rest in its habitual place just below her waist line. "If it's a boy," Kate said, smoothing the material of her coat across her belly in gentle reminder, "Fred."

If she had punched in him the nose and thrown him overboard, Jim would not have look so thunderstruck. It was hard to say precisely what had had such an effect on him. It could have been the fact that she had finally decided to broach the topic of the baby in direct terms, instead of as a vague, abstract idea that they could worry about later. Or, it could have been the name.

"Fred," Jim repeated. His voice was strangely muffled, as though he was speaking around a wad of cotton, and the muscles in his jaw and neck were working furiously. Jim cleared his throat, "Short fer Frederick I'd guess,"

Kate nodded, "That's right," she said. She picked a piece of fluff from the front of her coat, where the material had begun to pill, and felt inexplicably shy. "I thought that'd be… I thought that'd be proper. Then his second name'd be James, after you. Does it suit ye?"

It took several moments before Jim was able to reply. When he did, his voice was still tight, but he seemed to have gotten a hold of himself otherwise. "It's perfect," Jim said, taking both of her hands, "Frederick James…"

"Farrell," Kate finished firmly, "He'll have yer name or none at all,"

This brought a smile to Jim's face, a lop-sided, goofy grin that Kate had never seen before; he looked like a little boy, and the sight made her giggle in spite of the solemnity of the conversation. Jim lifted each of her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles, "I like the sound o' that,"

"Sort o' fond of it me own self," Kate agreed, beaming at him.

Jim kissed the end of her nose, "And if it's girl? Ye'll want te name her Katherine I s'pose."

Kate laughed, a little ruefully, "Ah no, the last thing this world needs is another Irish Kate," she said, "Mullins an' Murphy'd agree with me on that." Kate allowed herself a small, sad smile at the mention of her friends, "No, if it's a girl we'll think of somethin' else. 'Sides, it's prob'ly a boy. They run in me family ye know."

"Oh aye? An' what does that make you then?" Jim inquired, his eyebrows raised.

Kate aimed a kick at Jim's ankle, which he dodged, "I'm serious! An' it's not just that; _I_ think it's a boy. Just a feelin' I have,"

"All right fine. Lord knows I'm not gonna argue with ye once ye've set yer mind on somethin'," Jim said with good-natured exasperation. He put his arms around her again, "So, wee Fred is it?"

"Aye," Kate confirmed, lacing her fingers across her stomach. It felt strange, to be suddenly thinking of this baby, which had for so long been nothing but a dreadful secret, as a real person, with a name and a future. It made Kate's mind spin. "When he's old enough te understand," she said, her tone much more serious than before, "We'll tell him how he got his name. That way, he'll know the story too, 'stead o' just us. That way, they won't really die, d'ye see?"

Jim tightened his hold on her, and rested his chin against the top of her head, "Nothin' could honour 'em more Kate. Nothin' in the world." Kate shifted so that she could wrap her arms around his waist, snuggling as close as she could against his side. For a while they stood like that without speaking, content to merely be in each other's presence, watching the rapidly approaching shoreline. Eventually, Jim said, "Ye know we really ought te go inside an' get dried off. Don't know 'bout you, but I'm plumb soaked,"

Kate had hardly even noticed the rain – now no more than a fine, cold mist – for the past half hour. She pouted, "I want te watch the dockin'," she said. Jim immediately opened his mouth to protest and Kate, with a smirk, waved him quiet, "I know, I know, I'll catch pneumonia."

"Well ye c_ould_," Jim said tweaking her nose, "You _an' _that sassy smart mouth o' yers."

"Me an' my sassy smart mouth are gonna give ye a good kick in the pants Jim Farrell," Kate replied, pulling away from him and heading for the entry to below decks, "But just fer you I'll go,"

Jim rolled his eyes and did his utmost to look annoyed, but was unable to keep the smile off his face. When he caught up to her, she grinned and laced her fingers through his. Hand in hand they disappeared into the ship for what would likely be the very last time.

It was nearly two hours later that the call came for third class passengers to proceed to the gangway. Kate, towelled dry and with a warm cup of tea in her belly, had returned to the decks long before, to watch the proceedings. It was so strange to be stationary, to longer feel the ocean breeze moving through her hair and clothes, or the rumble of the engines beneath her feet. Kate had not realised how used to these things she had become. For some reason, the solid permanence of land intimidated her now.

Jim, hearing the call from the megaphone, emerged from below decks and hurried towards her. He was carrying a bundle in his arms and he handed this to Kate saying, "Our turn now Katie. What's goin' on down there?"

"Not much anymore," Kate said, taking the bundle. It consisted of a grey woollen blanket, heavy and warm, stenciled with the _Carpathia_'s name. It was wrapped around Kate's nightgown, and a moss green shawl that had been another donation from one of the other passengers. These three items, plus the clothes Kate currently wore, were all the possessions she had in the world. Everything else, the small things that she had chosen to make the journey with her, lay down at the bottom of the Atlantic. "It's near deserted now, 'cept fer the dock workers an' such,"

When the _Carpathia_ had first pulled into port, the docks had been crawling with people. Family members, government representatives, White Star and Cunard officials, reporters, doctors, and simple busy-bodies had been hours in the rain, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the liner and her grim cargo. Kate had pitied the poor souls who had been forced to disembark in the midst of this chaos of shouted words and jostling bodies. She was glad that most of the crowd seemed to have dispersed long ago.

"Guess most of the real important people've left now," Jim said with a wry smirk, "Them that's better fer news an' all,"

Kate made a noise of dismissal, "An' all the better fer us I say. It was like a bloody riot down there fer the first while,"

Jim nodded, and for a moment the pair of them did nothing but stare wordlessly at the docks, the first American ground they would step onto. Jim tugged the peak of his cap and tapped his knuckles against the railings, an anxious gesture that made Kate wonder if he'd done it before, on the fishing boat, when he was watching a storm brewing on the horizon. "Well, s'pose we go then?"

Mouth suddenly bone dry, Kate opted not to speak. She nodded and smiled, feeling the muscles in her face strain, and, tucking her blanket under one arm, followed Jim to where the third class were getting ready to leave the ship.

It was impossible not to notice how pitiful and bedraggled they all still were, and how very weary. Kate wondered how many of these people had family or friends, or someone waiting for them. Did they have a place to go, somewhere warm for the night? Or were they like she would have been if not for Jim, alone, destitute, with nothing to claim but the clothes on their back and nowhere to go that would make them feel welcome? Though she had promised herself that she would not think about it, Kate couldn't help but wonder what this day would have been like if things had happened the way they were supposed to. It should have been all sunlight and smiles and glorious excitement, not this.

But there was no sense in dwelling on that. However it had happened, however wrong absolutely everything had gone, they had still made it. They had _made_ it. And that was thing that really mattered. Kate stood up straighter, determined not to walk into her new life with her head bowed. It wasn't until the ramp clicked into place on the docks and the gate was opened that the full impact of what was about to happen hit her.

Very soon, in literally a matter of minutes, she would be stepping off of this ship onto the ramp, then off of the ramp and into a world that was unfamiliar, chilling in its indifference, and absolutely nothing like she'd imagined. On the _Titanic_, it had been easy to act like she was ready for anything, to blunder forward with heedless bravado, daring anyone or anything to tell her that she was wrong. It had been easy then to think like that, so much easier to be brave when standing between two other girls who were just as scared and unsure as she was.

But those girls were gone, and that blind self-assurance was gone, and that whole wonderful perfect world that she had dreamed up was gone, and she was just Kate. Just one frightened girl in a strange place that did not care two ways what happened to her or not. And for one terrible moment, Kate was sure that she couldn't do it, that there was no way that she was going to be able to walk down the ramp and into that vast unknown place that was now her life.

"Kate?"

But of course there was Jim, Kate thought. Jim, who was safe and familiar and steadfast, the rock she could anchor herself to. Jim, who would not let her be alone.

"I'm fine," Kate said, and to her ear she sounded as though she believed that, "I'm fine." She took a deep breath, and began to move, small steps, hampered by the pace of people ahead of her. She thought that she might be trembling, but Kate lifted her chin and tried to remember what it had been like to be brave. She had come this far and she would not give up now. There were too many people counting on her.

At the top of the ramp, Kate hesitated for only a moment, which was almost one moment too many. There was a part of her that wanted to run away, run and hide and forget that she had ever even heard about this so-called New World. But she forced herself to keep walking, to put one foot in front of the other, because that was the only way to make it from second to second: to keep going, to keep pushing ahead.

Kate almost made it. It was as she approached the bottom of the ramp, literally one stride's difference between being on the gangway and being on dry land, that she stopped, frozen in place as though someone had turned her to stone. Kate swallowed, knowing that she had to move but suddenly, this close to the end, unable to make her body obey her commands.

People at the back of the line began to mutter impatiently, and a bewildered looking crew man gestured for her to keep moving. Kate, her folded blanket clutched to her chest, stared at him, feeling ridiculous, feeling terrified. She could not make her legs work.

Jim, who had been walking directly behind her, came immediately to her side, "Katie, what's the matter?"

Kate looked up at him blinking hard, "The next step I take I'm off the boat," she said quietly, her voice quivering and hoarse with emotion, "the next step I take I can't turn 'round and come back, I can't change me mind. There's so much I have te do, there's so much that's gonna happen." She hugged her blanket harder, and swallowed, "I'm scared Jim,"

"I know," Jim said. He took one of her hands, gently unhooking her fingers from the material of the blanket, "But we're gonna be ok. You told me we'd have te remind each other, aye? Well, I'm tellin' ye now: you an' me, we're gonna be just fine,"

That was all she needed to hear. Kate closed her eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. She believed him. They would be fine. They would get married, and she would have the baby and they would raise their family and be the people that they wanted to be. They would remember how they got there. They would make everyone proud. "Yes," she said, "all right,"

Jim smiled at her, "Good girl," he turned so that they were shoulder to shoulder on the ramp, keeping firm hold of her hand, "We'll go at the same time, aye? When yer ready,"

It was time, Kate knew, time to move on, time to let go. Letting go did not mean forgetting. She would go on, always, always remembering. Mullins, Murphy, Fred Barrett, so many had died, but Kate was still here, and she was their legacy. She would live, and through her, so would they.

Kate squared her shoulders, set her jaw and nodded once, "I'm ready," she said. Jim gave her hand one final squeeze. She squeezed back, hard, and they stepped forward, together.

End.


End file.
